BTTX
by Flaming Trails
Summary: The XMen get a visit from the Back to the Future Characters during a time of crisis. XMen Movies and BTTF
1. Rescue From the Waters

BTTX

By Flaming Trails

A BTTF/ X-Men Crossover

Disclaimer: I own neither BTTF nor X-Men. If I did -- well, read on!

Note: Okay, technically, this is a crossover with the X-Men _movies._ But I will being using elements from the comic books/novels.

  


Prologue

Tuesday, April 9th, 2002

Alkali Lake, Canada

4: 42 P. M.

Jean Grey had never concentrated harder in her life. Her eyes almost seemed to fill with fire as she held back the waters with half her consciousness and lifted the Blackbird with the other half. She no longer cared what happened to herself. All that mattered now was that her friends would live. They couldn't die now. Not after all they had been through. Locating Professor X's mind, she used him as a mouthpiece for her last message to Scott.

Or, what she _thought_ was her last message.

Unbeknownst to the severely distracted X-Men, there were two other figures observing this scene, about a mile up in their flying DeLorean. Marty McFly leaned out the passenger side door, eyes wide behind a binocular card. "Holy shit, Doc, are you seeing what I'm seeing?!"

"If what you're seeing is a jet aircraft with an exceptional body design, yes," Doc Brown replied, just as surprised as Marty. "Great Scott, look at it. I wonder what it's doing here?"

"Looks like trying to get off the ground before that flood hits," Marty reported, looking from the wall of water back to the jet. "Jesus Christ, I wonder--"

His voice abruptly cut itself off as he spotted something else with the futuristic binoculars. There appeared to be a woman standing in front of the jet, holding up something with her hand. "HOLY SHIT! Doc, there's somebody down there!"

"Well, of course. I'd assume that jet has passengers."

"No, no, somebody _in front_ of the jet! Looks like she's holding something up."

"What??" Doc took the binoculars from Marty. Sure enough, he could make out a red-headed woman in front of the wave. "Great Scott! Once the barrier falls--" his voice dropped. "She'll drown."

Brown eyes met blue ones. Both of the time travelers knew about the consequences when you played around with the space-time continuum. They had changed the future, the present, and the past multiple times in their trips.

But they also knew it would be extremely hard for them to just stand around and watch someone die. Especially for Doc.

"You know, Doc," Marty said slowly, "it _is_ the future. If any paradoxes happen, we'll actually have some time to fix them."

Doc looked back down. Instead of seeing a red-head fighting for her life in front of wall of water, he saw a brunette about to fall to her death in a ravine. His expression became determined. "Marty, I need you to listen to me _very carefully_. . . ."

Jean's power was at its height, manifesting now in fire-colored eyes and glowing wing-shapes around her hands. She suddenly knew with all her heart that she was going to succeed. She directed almost all of her will into raising the Blackbird, saving merely a fraction for holding back the waters. At her command, the engines fired and roared to full power. She could sense the attempts of the others to save her now, but blocked them all. She was at peace with herself and her choice. If her life had to be taken in exchange for her friends – so be it.

The Blackbird finally rose into the air, ready to fly away safely. Jean smiled, sending a last _I love you_ to Scott. Then she prepared to let the waters engulf her.

Suddenly, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her off the ground. Jean screamed and lost control of her powers. Whoever had grabbed her – Nightcrawler? No, it couldn't be – accelerated upward just in time to avoid being swept away by the wave. Jean turned in her captor's grasp, frightened it might be Magneto, or someone worse.

A total stranger stared back at her. He looked roughly 60, but Jean could feel that, internally, he was much younger. His white hair stuck to his skin where the water had splashed him. "Are you all right?" he asked, brown eyes intensely worried.

Jean needed a second to answer that. Her powers had waned, leaving her exhausted. Her broken leg throbbed terribly, in time to a pounding headache. Added to that was the fact she was being held by a stranger, and suspended from what appeared to be a _flying DeLorean_, of all things!

Then she thought about what had just transpired, with both mutantkind and humankind being threatened. This was nearer "all right" then that had been. She managed a nod.

The man gently pulled her inside the DeLorean. At the wheel of the car was a younger man, with brown hair and blue eyes. Was he the first man's son? His grandson? Jean couldn't tell. It hurt too much to focus her telepathy.

The driver gave her a worried frown. "She okay, Doc?"

"I think she's in shock. She's going to need medical attention."

Marty nodded, then looked down at Jean. "What's your name, ma'am?"

"Grey," Jean gasped out. "Jean Grey."

Then she fainted.

Wednesday, August 12th, 2020

Hill Valley, California

4: 15 P. M.

Doc carefully landed the car out of sight. "All right, Marty, you stay here with Miss Grey. I'll be right back."

Marty glanced around the alley they had parked in. "So this is 2020, huh? Doesn't look too different from 2015."

"It's more advanced. I got the train hover-converted in this year. Medical technology has also advanced further, which is more relevant to our current situation." Doc opened up his door.

"Hey, Doc?" Doc looked back at him. "Do you think it was wise to take _her_ here?" He motioned toward Jean, still out and currently slumped across the seats. "I don't want what happened with Jennifer to happen again."

"Miss Grey needs more medical assistance than I can give her. Her leg appears to be broken in multiple places. And it's not like I'm stupidly abandoning her in an alley this time. If she wakes up and starts asking difficult questions, my sleep inducer's right in the glove compartment."

"Okay, gotcha Doc."

Doc nodded with an appreciative smile. "I'll return in five minutes, and we can plan from there." Grabbing the "Nike" gym bag he used to store emergency changes of clothes, he was off.

Some minutes later, Jean groaned and blearily opened her eyes. Immediately, a cacophony of thoughts and voices beared down on her. She pushed them away with a small effort and focused on the one nearest. _Uh-oh. She's waking up. I hope she's too dizzy to notice where we are._

Jean was astonished. She recognized the mind-voice as one of her rescuers. Why on earth would he not want her to know where she was? Baffled, she sat up a little to get his attention.

"Hey." Jean turned to see him sitting behind her. "How're you doing, ma'am?"

"Okay. Where am I?"

"In the Doc's car. He's gonna be right back."

That really didn't answer her question, proving the teen hadn't wanted to answer it. She probed his mind using her telepathy. His name was Marty, he was 19 years old, from California, and surprisingly no relation to the older man – the aforementioned "Doc."

She glanced around the car, making Marty fidget. The first thing she noticed was a large readout near the steering wheel, with three LCD displays:

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 12TH, 2020, 4: 16 P. M.

WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 12TH, 2020, 4: 21 P. M.

TUESDAY, APRIL 9TH, 2002, 4: 42 P. M.

Jean's eyes went wide. _2020? Is this some sort of joke? Or – no. It can't be. Can it?_

The rest of the car looked similarly weird. There was a keypad beside the display, with some sort of touch pad beside it. Behind her, crammed into the back, was a Y-shaped device labeled the "flux capacitor." Beside that was a flat screen like a TV screen and another touch pad. The ceiling of the driver's side had quite a few buttons and switches on it. Somebody with a lot of technical know-how had built this – thing. Jean wasn't quite ready to admit to herself what she thought it was.

She turned to ask Marty a question and saw him reaching for the glove compartment. She quickly used her telekinesis to grab his arm and hold it. "What's going on? Where are we?" she asked, trying to remain calm. 

Marty tried to pull his arm free of her teke restraints. "Listen, Doc went to get some help for your leg. We're in Hill Valley."

"Where's that?"

Marty got decidedly nervous, yanking harder on his frozen limb. _Damn it, what the hell is going on here?! Why can't I move my arm! If only I could grab that sleep-inducer. . . ._

"HEY!"

Jean looked to see Doc there, holding two large bags and frowning deeply. His clothes had changed since she'd seen him last – a purple shirt with a gold coat. "What's going on here?"

"She's kinda demanding where she is," Marty admitted, staring down at his arm. Jean took pity on him and released it. The teen promptly shook it a few times and bent it experimentally.

"Who are you?" she asked first. "I'm grateful for you saving me, but I would like to get your names?"

The pair glanced at each other before replying. "Dr. Emmett L. Brown," Doc formally introduced himself. "This is my assistant, Marty McFly."

"McFly? Brown?" She knew those names. They were important. She thought back, trying to recall where she had heard them.

Then it came. Scott was a bit of a sci-fi buff, and one of his favorite authors was a man named _George_ McFly. And Jean knew that a lot of the girls in the school listened to the music of a Marty McFly.

But the name "Dr. Emmett L. Brown" was far more important. She had heard _his_ name from Dr. Hank McCoy, a friend who had helped the X-Men with designing the Blackbird. Hank had introduced them to Dr. Brown's ideas, calling him a genius in the fields of quantum and temporal physics. Many of his theories were considered revolutionary, but utterly fantastic.

But, apparently one hadn't been fantastic enough. "Oh God," Jean murmured. "This isn't – this isn't a _time machine_, is it?"

The looks on Marty's and Doc's faces told her she had hit the nail on the head. Marty once again tried to reach for the glove compartment, his thoughts revealing concealed panic. She threw a teke shield up in front of the door.

Doc looked at her, his brown eyes intense – and frankly, kind of spooky. "How did you know that?"

"Doc, I told ya, you gotta make this stuff less visible," Marty interjected.

"We don't usually have passengers who have no knowledge of the car's workings," Doc replied, eyes still fixed on Jean. "Most people just think of this as a strange clock."

"I might have too, but I know about your work," Jean rushed to explain. "A friend of mine introduced me to it. He said you were one of the leading minds in temporal physics. I even recognize this thing." She pointed to the flux capacitor. "I just guessed that it was a time machine."

The frown lessened a little. Jean attempted to read his thoughts, but only got painful static. "I suppose I can't fault you for that. However, I can't just let anyone know about my machine."

"We've had bad experiences," Marty added, glaring at the glove compartment. "Doc, you install some new security feature? I can't get into the glove compartment."

Doc reached over and touched her teke shield. Suddenly, Jean felt a sharp pain in her head. She yelped as Doc's hand somehow managed to pass through the shield and destroy it.

Both men gave her a funny look. Marty kindly made sure that no one was accidentally leaning on her injured leg. But Doc's expression worried her. It was a kind of half-frown, half-smile, the kind that said something he'd suspected had been confirmed. _Oh, shit, what if he can tell I'm a mutant?! It would be just my luck to fall into the hands of a pair of mutant-haters._

Then, much to her surprise, Doc actually smiled at little and pulled back. He settled her comfortably between the seats and got into the car. Marty frowned at him. "Doc?"

"Don't worry, Marty. I've got a feeling we can trust Miss Grey."

"Doctor," Jean automatically corrected.

"Dr. Grey," Doc nodded.

"Just a gut instinct, Doc?" Doc nodded again, looking pretty sure of himself. Marty shrugged, still looking very concerned. "You're the doc, Doc. I trust you to know what the heck you're doing."

"Relax, Marty. I'm more experienced than I was in 1985. Besides, we have the added advantage of blackmail," he grinned at Jean.

_Yup, he knows. Apparently, he's willing to keep my mutant abilities a secret in exchange for not telling anyone about his time machine. I can live with that. Besides, who would believe me?_

"Blackmail? Doc, we've known Dr. Grey for, what, ten minutes?"

"How long did it take me to fall in love with Clara?"

Marty smiled a little. "Okay, that's true. But this is different. Do you know her from somewhere? Whatcha got on her?"

Doc gave Jean an apologetic look. "I have to tell him. He's my best friend." Looking back at Marty, he explained. "She's a mutant, Marty. My guess is a telekine. That would account for us not being able to get into the glove compartment." Marty raised an eyebrow in confusion. "She can manipulate objects with her mind."

Marty was suitably impressed. "Is that true, Dr. Grey?"

"Guilty as charged," Jean sighed. As long as Doc knew. . . . "What tipped you off, Dr. Brown?"

"When I reached for the glove compartment. I could feel something blocking me, then it vanished. I have some knowledge on the mutant phenomenon, so I made a logical guess – much like yourself with the car. You lost your concentration right then, didn't you?"

Jean nodded. "I guess I'm not fully recovered from what I did at Alkali Lake."

Marty's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "Holy shit, you were holding back all that water _by yourself???_"

"Yes. I had no other choice. If I hadn't stopped the waters, my friends would have died."

Marty nodded, an understanding smile on his face. Jean received some rather odd flashes from his mind right then. One involved Marty yelling at a younger version of Doc during a storm. The other had him facing off against an Old Western gunfighter! _I guess they've had some adventures!_ "By the way, what were _you_ doing there?"

"The time machine had malfunctioned on a previous trip. I went to Alkali Lake to ascertain my repairs were adequate. I was _positive_ it would be deserted. . . ."Doc gunned the car into the sky. "That's water under the bridge. This is our deal, Dr. Grey. You keep our secret, we'll keep yours. It's necessary that my time machine remain unknown to the general public."

"My lips are sealed," Jean promised with a smiled. "But I owe you guys already. Thank you for getting me out of there in time."

Both Marty and Doc blushed a little. "It's not like we could just stand there, right?" Marty replied. "And not help?"

"We know all too well the consequences of altering the time-line, but in your case, it was a risk we were willing to take." Doc pressed his thumb against the touch-pad, then typed a date in. "You'll be staying with us for a day or two to recuperate. I'll figure out the best time to return you to your proper temporal frame in the meantime."

"You're too kind." Jean noticed that the first readout had changed to:

SATURDAY, MAY 15TH, 1987, 10: 19 A. M.

_Wow. I would have been about ten in that year. I'm getting goosebumps._ "That where – when you live?"

"Precisely. Brace yourself for temporal displacement." He hit the gas. Jean held onto the seats tightly. The speedometer raced upward, going to 60 – 70 – 80 –

There was a triple sonic boom once they reached 88 miles per hour. For a fraction of a second, Jean felt like she was suspended outside time. Then they were back, zooming over the town. Doc quickly flipped a switch. "So no one can see us," he said.

They landed fairly quickly, beside a large, ancient farmhouse. A brown-haired woman, roughly in her 40s, was waiting outside, watching two young boys rough-house on the grass. The younger of the two waved at the car. "Hi, Papa, hi Marty."

"Everything go all right, Emmett?" the woman called in a slightly-nasal voice.

"With the car, yes." Doc opened the door and helped Jean out. "This is Dr. Grey. She's going to be staying with us for a little while."

"Pleasure to meet you," Jean said politely.

Clara blinked. "Hi. Where did you come from?"

"Alkali Lake," Marty said. "She was there the same time we were. She was gonna drown," he added in a softer voice.

Clara understood. "So you're from 2002," she said. "You told her about the time machine, I see."

"Don't worry, dear, she's given her word she won't tell anyone else about it."

"Your husband is blackmailing me," Jean added, unable to keep a slight grin from her face.

"I don't think I understand. . . ."

"I'll explain momentarily. Marty, help her into the house."

Marty helped Jean in and onto the couch. "I always think life can't get any crazier," he grumbled, paradoxically smiling. "Comfy?"

"Yeah." Jean settled herself. "And I know the feeling. You guys have had a lot of adventures with that time machine."

"Well, sort of. That one's technically new – the old one got smashed to bits by a train."

"In the Old West?" Marty's eyes bugged again. "I'm telepathic as well as telekinetic. I caught some flashes of you in different time periods."

"Oh. I'd fill you in some more, but it's a really long story."

Jean smiled. "I can think of a better way." She extended her hands to frame Marty's head. "Just relax." She closed her eyes and concentrated.

Just like that, she was inside Marty's head, watching the drama unfold. He skated up to Twin Pines Mall. Or was it Lone Pine Mall? There seemed to be conflicting memories. Marty impressed upon her that he had two sets of memories due to time-traveling, and that these first ones were pretty much the same.

He met up with Doc's dog, Einstein, then watched in astonishment as Doc steered the DeLorean out of the back of his van. Doc had Marty videotape the first experiment, using Einstein as the test subject. He positioned the car right in front of them, then began to accelerate it with the brake on. Jean chuckled as Marty tried to scoot away. Doc noticed him and gave him a look, making Marty scoot back.

He released the brake, sending the car at them. Just as Marty and Jean were sure they were about to be run over, the car glowed, then vanished with a triple sonic boom and a bright flash of light. Doc jumped for joy, making Jean laugh out loud, then explained to them how he had used the time machine to send Einstein a minute into the future. Right on schedule, Einstein returned, none the worse for wear.

Doc proudly showed them the inner workings of the car. Right away Jean could see that the original model wasn't quite as sleek – although, to tell the truth, the new model wasn't too classy either. The LCD display was twice as large, the touch pads were missing, and so was the flat screen in the back. Despite all that, it was still an extremely impressive machine. Jean fully agreed with Marty's thought that Doc was a genius.

Doc explained how, although basically electrical, the car's time circuits ran on plutonium. He refueled and prepared for his trip into the future. Then Einstein started barking at something – a Volkswagen van coming down the hill. Doc, panicking, told Jean it was the Libyan terrorists he had ripped off for the plutonium. Jean dove for cover behind the DeLorean as they started shooting. Doc tried to return fire with an antique handgun, but couldn't get it to work. He tried desperately to escape, but instead ran right into the Libyans–

Jean's eyes snapped open as Marty's head ducked below her hands. She reached out and held Marty's arm. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You didn't know." Marty took a deep breath. "It was – like I was living it all over again."

"I know. My telepathy's never acted like that before. Usually I just get a series of quick impressions. This was more like climbing into your skin." She blinked a few times to clear her head.

Doc came in just then, trailing Clara and the boys. "Glad to see you're settled. I've explained everything to them." He knelt by her side and produced something that looked like a snap-on cast. He carefully snapped it around her leg and pressed a few buttons. It got uncomfortably warm for a moment, then cooled down. "There. In a hour or so, you'll be as good as new."

"Thanks." Jean heard her stomach growl and suddenly realized she was ravenous. "Could I have something to eat, please?"

"I'll fix you a sandwich," Clara offered kindly. "Tuna fish or chicken salad?"

"Tuna fish, thanks."

The older of the boys, with brown hair and eyes, inched closer. "Papa says you're from the future." Jean nodded. "We're from the past."

"Really?"

"Yup, the 1800s. We lived there for a little while, then Papa built the time machine, and we moved here so he could be with Marty." Marty blushed at that statement.

"You guys aren't still jealous of me, are ya?"

"It's true," the younger one, a blond, grinned. "And you'll never make us believe you're not related to us somehow."

Jean couldn't help but snicker. "What's your names?"

"I'm Jules," the brunette said. 

"I'm Verne," the blond nodded.

"I'm Jean." Glancing over at Doc, she added, "Jules and Verne?"

"He's my and Clara's favorite author," Doc said, a bit indignantly. "I'm going back to the future to find out when I can bring you back. I'll return in roughly a hour or so." He gave his kids and Marty hugs, then exited to the kitchen. Jules and Verne followed.

Marty looked at her. "You wanna – finish – you know."

"Later, after I've eaten."

Marty shrugged. "It's just that the last part of it – the Old West and Clara – that's really Doc's story. You'll want to read his mind too."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

Saturday, May 15th, 1987

Hill Valley

2: 33 P. M.

Doc looked in on Jean, who was now situated in the guest room. "Everything all right in here?"

"Everything's fine. Verne drew me a picture after hearing my story." Jean held up a crude drawing of Doc lifting her to safety.

Doc chuckled. "Verne loves to draw. I don't think I'll be surprised if he grows up to be an artist."

Jean frowned. "Don't you know already?"

Doc shook his head. "I try to stay away from personal futures. No man should know too much about his own destiny." He sat down beside her. "I got all the information in order. There was one major event after you disappeared that I feel you could possibly have a negative effect on. A presidential speech about mutants that I feel might have been influenced by other mutants, friends of yours. Therefore, I'm going to take you back roughly a month after that event."

"All right. But why do you think it was influenced?"

"Right at the beginning, there was a power outage, and then the president had some files on his desk that weren't there before. Sounds like something a mutant could do to me."

Jean had to nod. "Does knowing what's going to happen in the future ever bother you? Like with that letter Marty gave you?"

"Ah, that's why you asked. If it doesn't apply to me, my family, or my friends, I'm not adversely affected by the information. That letter contained knowledge that nearly drove me insane with worry." He frowned a little. "Has Marty told you about all our adventures?"

"Not exactly. . . ." Jean explained about her telepathic powers. "He told me to read your mind if I wanted the full story on the Old West. Frankly, it all fascinates me. You have my word I won't repeat it to anyone else. Cross my heart."

Doc looked concerned. "Well, I suppose. One moment." He closed his eyes. Jean thought she saw the lights flicker. "All right."

Jean framed Doc's face and concentrated. She saw first Doc's role in the first adventures, almost in fast-motion. She slowed it down when Doc was preparing to land and pick up Marty. "Be careful!" Marty yelled over the walkie-talkie. "You don't want to get struck by lightning!"

Perversely, the DeLorean was immediately struck by _two_ bolts. The car spun wildly out of control as the time circuits activated. Then she and Doc were in the air above a desert – and falling. Doc tried to bring the hover system on-line, but it had been shorted out by the strikes. Desperate, he–

Jean's eyes opened wide. Doc jerked away, suddenly very pale. "Great Scott," he moaned.

"You're a mutant," Jean whispered, stunned. Doc looked at the bedspread. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"For the same reason I wasn't going to tell you about the time machine," he muttered. "I didn't want anyone to know."

"Does Clara and--"

"No. I was too scared to tell them." He looked up at her pleadingly. "Please, don't say a word. A good number of the citizens of this town won't even speak to me. I couldn't bear losing my family or Marty. Please."

Now_ who has blackmail material?_ Jean couldn't help thinking. But she could understand Doc's fright. She remembered how frightened she had been when her telepathic/telekinetic powers had manifested. And Doc didn't have a Charles Xavier to help him. "You're keeping my secret? Then I'll keep yours. But you owe me."

"Fair enough." They shook on it.

Tuesday, May 27th, 2002

Graymalkin Lane, Westchester County, New York

1: 19 P. M.

Scott Summers walked dejectedly out onto the grounds. He wished Professor Xavier hadn't started talking about Jean. Every time he started to feel any better about the world, some mentioned Jean and reminded him he'd never see her again. Never feel her thoughts merging with his again. Never smell her hair again.

Never see her walking along the – grounds. . . .

Scott blinked. There she was, walking along, looking around the place gratefully. He shook his head. _No. It can't be. She's dead. I saw her die._ Still, he couldn't prevent himself from calling out, "Jean?"

She turned and saw him. A smile appeared on her face, radiant as the sun. "Scott!" She ran toward him, looking so real he could touch–

"_JEAN!_" Tears streamed from his eyes as she ran into his arms. "Oh, Jean, baby. . . ."

"I missed you, Scott," she breathed, saying it with both mind and voice. "I love you so much."

Scott was almost beyond speaking. He pulled her close, thanking God for the miracle that had brought her back to him. "I love you too," he whispered, wondering when the other X-Men would notice. Far off in the distance, he heard three booms – looked like Storm had seen her. "I've missed you – we've missed you. How the hell did you get out of there?"

Jean smiled enigmatically. "I had some help from a friend," she replied, glancing up at the sky.

Scott wondered what she meant by that, then decided he really didn't care. He kissed her passionately, thinking, _My Jean, a phoenix rising from the ashes._

Jean got a thoughtful look on her face. _Hmmm. . .Phoenix. . . ._


	2. The Mutant Phenomenon

Chapter 1

September 6th, 2002

New York, New York

12: 19 P. M.

"The Senate is, once again, considering the implementation of the Mutant Registration Act – a law that would require all mutants to inform public officials of their location and powers. Special interest groups from both sides are besieging their senators. We have statements here from both the 'Purifiers' and the 'Friends of Life.'"

A woman appeared, wearing a shirt with a green monster rising from the muck and the bold words "MUTANTS SUCK!" A tag line identified her as Catherine Davidson, member of the Purifiers. "It's rotten that we have to live with these damn muties anyway! If we can root 'em out, we can finally start to get rid of them!"

She was quickly replaced by a bearded man in a suit, frowning formally at the camera. "Mutants are people just like us. They should not have to live under laws that single them out. It's the Purifiers who should be registered."

The newswoman reappeared, vacant smile in place. "The Senate is not expected to vote on this issue for another few weeks, but it promises to be exciting politics. Channel Eight will be sure to keep you informed."

Doc winced and closed his eyes. After that speech by the President advocating friendship and acceptance, the government still thought of mutants like they had about the Japanese during World War II. _Suppose that's politics for you,_ he thought bitterly.

Marty, sitting next to him, frowned up at the small TV Doc had installed in his time train. "Why would they want mutants to tell everybody what they are? Whose business is it?"

"It's the usual human failing, Marty," Doc informed his friend. "They want to discriminate against them. Despite the fact X-factor mutants have probably been born and lived among humans since we first evolved, mankind still sees them as a threat. And according to what I found out on previous trips, there's been a small mutant population boom in the last few years. To us, the threat is getting larger."

Marty snorted, disgusted. "Figures. That's humanity for ya. At heart, we're all Biff Tannen."

Doc smiled ever so slightly. "Oh, Marty, I wouldn't judge us that harsh--"

Doc suddenly began to cough extremely hard, bending double. Marty's expression quickly changed from disgust to nervousness. "Doc?" He put an arm around his best friend. _Damn. I feel so helpless._

After a minute, the coughing subsided. Doc sat up and took a deep breath. "Sorry," he muttered.

"It isn't your fault, Doc," Jennifer said, coming in with Clara. They had been playing with the boys. "We heard you coughing, you okay?"

"For the moment. My respiration hasn't ceased." Doc looked down at the floor. The cough had been a rude reminder of their mission there. Back in their native time of 1987, Doc had been diagnosed with a totally new disease. His doctors had only been able to find out a couple of things about it. One, it attacked the sick person's DNA, rewriting it somehow.

Two, it was ultimately fatal.

Clara leaned over him and put her arms around his neck. "I'm glad to hear that," she said, kissing his forehead. "Hopefully this doctor can help you."

"I still don't get why we didn't go to 2015, or something," Marty admitted, making sure Doc was really all right. "Wouldn't they be _sure_ to have a cure for you?"

"Maybe – maybe not." Doc lifted his head, feeling depressed. "If I contracted the disease in the future, which I probably did, it's entirely possible that there is – no cure. I don't want to leave any avenues open. What if, in 2015, my disease had been totally eradicated, and no one knew how to help me? Best to start here in my search." Marty shrugged.

The TV caught their attention again. "In more local news, a mutant identified only as 'Beast' terrorized a group of mourners at a Newhill, Massachusetts funeral yesterday. The mother of the deceased, Mrs. Kathleen Montgomery, told us that the Beast appeared out of nowhere, attacked a man at the funeral, then bounded away, chased by the crowd. Our own Jon Black was on the scene, and was able to get us this footage of the dramatic event."

The scene on the set changed to a cemetery, with group of black-clad mourners huddling around one grave. A few of the younger members were arguing with another group who had shown up. This group was in normal street clothes, and held misspelled signs: DOWN WITH MUTIES, Purify the Race, The Only GOOD Mutant is a DEAD Mutant – the usual.

Suddenly, in the midst of the mourners, something incredible appeared. Something that looked like a blue werewolf. People ran in fright as the Beast somersaulted over to the leader of the mutant-haters and planted a big kiss right on his lips.

Marty had to laugh. "Good for him! Serves that jerk right!"

Jennifer was a little more reserved in her praise. "He _is_ rather scary-looking. I don't think I'd want to meet him in a dark alley."

"Yeah, he is, but he didn't _attack_ anybody. He can't help the way he looks. I think those guys got just what they – Doc?"

Doc had gotten up and walked away from the television. He felt sick to his stomach. Nobody would let mutants live their lives. _Nobody!_ Not even in the future, which was supposedly so "enlightened," so free of racism and sexism. His fists clenched in rage.

The TV suddenly started flickering on and off, causing Clara to jump. It was quickly joined by the lights. Marty stared as the trip log – a flat screen that stored every time hop the train took – began to scroll up and down erratically. _Okay, I don't like this._

Jules and Verne ran in, ignoring their father. "Mama, something's wrong with our Gameboys®!" Verne reported. He showed her how they were turning themselves on and off, in time with the lights and TV. "What's wrong with them?"

"Are we near any electrical fields?" Jules asked worriedly. "'Cause if something like that could do that to our toys, I don't want to know what it could do to Papa's train."

"Me neither. Emmett? I think we should move the train."

"Yeah, Doc, something's messed up here," Marty agreed.

Doc blinked and relaxed. As everything returned to normal, he realized in horror what he had done. He quickly checked his reflection in the window. His eyes were normal, thank God, although his hair was a little mussier. And it didn't look like his family or friends had figured out the cause of the disturbance.

He frowned deeply as he looked at his family. After seeing those news reports, he couldn't help but wonder. _How would they react if they ever found out the truth about me? If they somehow discovered that _I'm_ a mutant. They're wonderfully tolerant of others. Would they retain that quality? Or would they drop me like a heated starch resource – aka hot potato? _Doc didn't want to find out. He had lost too much from his "normal" eccentricities.

"Emmett? Don't you think we should do something?"

Oh, right. Clara wanted an answer. Doc turned around. "We should move the train. If there is unusual electrical activity in the area, I don't want to run the risk of the time circuits shorting out. Or of anyone investigating that activity walking into it."

The alarm on his left watch beeped. "It appears it's time for my doctor's appointment. You move the train while I seek out the necessary medical attention." He grabbed a walkie-talkie from the time-travel kit he had made up, as well as some 2000 money from his briefcase.

"Do you want one of us to go with you, Doc?" Marty asked. "I'd kind of like to see New York."

"Find a safe place for this first. I should be fine on my own. Once I check with the doctor, maybe we can do a bit of sightseeing."

Clara bit her lip. "Emmett, are you _positive_ you're going to be all right? That cough just keeps getting worse."

"Even so, it's still only a cough. I should be able to get to the doctor's office. Due to what just happened, I think it's best if we think about the safety of the train in this area." He kissed her. "I'll be fine, promise. I'll call you the minute the appointment is over."

"If you're sure," Clara sighed reluctantly. "Be safe out there."

"Hope they can help ya, Doc," Marty added, pulling his best friend into a hug. "It would suck if after surviving all we did, some stupid _cold_ gets ya."

Doc squeezed him. "I'll do everything I can."

"Bye Papa," Jules and Verne echoed, joining the hug.

"Bye kids. You two behave yourselves while I'm gone." He gently extricated himself from their arms.

"Good luck, Doc," Jennifer smiled, shaking his hand.

"Thanks, I think I'll need it." He left the train with a final wave, watching with satisfaction as it disappeared from sight. A moment later, he heard it rise into the air and chug away. _Hmmm. If we do end up going to 2015 or later, I think I'll also look for something to disguise the train's noise. The invisibility device was a godsend, but hearing a train overhead is bound to attract attention. I can't think about that now, though. I have to find that doctor._

He left the alley they had been hovering over and blended in with the rest of the foot traffic. It was another busy day in New York, with the residents fighting the crowds to get on with their business. Doc wove his way through the gaps, searching for a certain skyscraper which housed Dr. Taber. Supposedly the man was an expert in the field of new and rare diseases. Doc certainly hoped he was.

As he bumped his way up to a crosswalk, Doc spotted a young girl sitting against a wall. Normally he wouldn't have given her a second glance – he knew a bum or a vagrant when he saw one – but she was different. For one thing, she was too clean to be a street person. Her jeans, T-shirt, and boots were worn, but tidy. Her hair, cut short, wasn't matted or filthy-looking. She also didn't have that glazed look most of them had. Frankly, she looked like some kid who had just ended up in New York and wasn't sure where to go.

Doc reached into his pocket. Would she accept a handout? Would he change the space-time continuum somehow by giving her one?

The stoplight turned red. The girl got up, slung her brown bag over her shoulder, and joined the crowd. Doc made his decision. "Hey! Miss!"

The girl paused and looked at him. "Me?" she asked, her voice hopeful but unsure.

Doc pulled out a five dollar bill. "I wanted to give you this."

The girl smiled a little crookedly. "I'm not asking for handouts, but thanks," she said, shyly taking the money from him. She stuffed it in her pocket.

Doc was of a mind to ask her what she was doing in New York, when someone bumped into him and spun him around. It took him a few minutes to turn back around, and when he had, she was gone. He sighed as he finished crossing. _Too late. Well, good luck to you, kid._

He continued on, finally spotting his destination in the maze of metal and sky. He entered the building and studied the floor maps. Dr. Taber was on the third floor. Luckily enough, he spotted a group of people crowding into an elevator. "Hold it!" he yelled, joining them.

"What floor?" the girl closest the buttons asked.

"Eighth," "Twelfth," "Third," "Third as well," "Nineteenth," "Fifth."

The appropriate buttons were punched, and they were on their way. The woman at the buttons turned to the man standing behind her. "Hey, did you see that story on the news earlier?"

"You mean about the mutant? Yeah, I did. Damn scary if you ask me. Able to blend into normal society like that."

"They should all be rounded up and shot," another man snapped. "If we don't do somethin' _now_, they're gonna take over the world. Remember that freak at Liberty Island? Magneto?"

"He's on the loose again, you know. Shows how much faith you can put in the government."

"I'll say. We had a chance to stop them, before Senator Kelley whimped out on us."

"Senator Kelley?" Doc asked as the car stopped.

"He used to be for the Mutant Registration Act," another woman explained, getting off with him. "Last year he did a total about-face. I'm not for the MRA, but I don't know if I want a guy like that sponsoring it."

Doc shrugged, noncommital, and walked into the small waiting room. There were a number of people in here today. "Hello, I'm Mr. Flynn Cummings. I'm here for my one o'clock."

"Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Cummings," the receptionist said cheerily. "Dr. Taber will be with you shortly. Please have a seat."

Doc sat down by a pile of magazines. Picking one up at random, he rolled his eyes. The cover screamed:

MUTANTS! Friend. . .or Foe? 

We talk with top mutation experts for our answers.

"Can this nation find nothing else to talk about?" Doc complained softly, opening it despite himself. A glance at the contents revealed the answer – except for Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck, no.

He looked through the rest of the magazines, but it was all more of the same. He resigned himself to reading the one he currently held. He did a brief skim of the latest crisis between J. Lo and Ben, then moved on to a mutant article. To his shock, it was an interview with a certain "Charles Xavier." _Jean's friend? How odd. I thought for sure they were going to show mutants as strictly a threat._ Smiling a little, he started reading.

"Mr. Cummings?" Doc looked up, annoyed he had been interrupted so soon. "Dr. Taber's ready for you."

Doc sighed and set the magazine down. "Thank you." He headed into the doctor's office, a few jealous glances following him. Dr. Taber himself was studying a chart. "Dr. Taber?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, come in. I won't be a moment." Doc settled himself on the bed. Dr. Taber made a few notes on the chart, then turned his full attention to his patient. "You must be Mr. Cummings. Pleasure to meet you." Doc nodded and shook his hand. "So, what exactly is the trouble?"

"It's – I don't know," Doc confessed, letting his anxiety show. "It feels like I have a persistent cold, with a nagging cough to boot. My doctor back home told me that the virus appeared to be directly attacking my DNA. It hasn't done too much damage yet, but – later. . . ." Doc bit his lower lip for a moment, fighting the wave of hopelessness that threatened to wash him away. "I'm rather desperately hoping you can help me. I've been studying my own condition, and I've--"

Dr. Taber's face had gone dark as he spoke. He leaned down and jabbed a finger into Doc's chest. "Listen. Just get up and walk out of here. Right now."

The wave crashed over him. Doc's face crumpled. "You can't help? Can you recommend someone who can?"

"Like hell. No doctor I know would want to risk catching mutant cancer. So get out of here, you damn mutie."

_How in the name of Sir Issac H. Newton did he know?!_ "Excuse me, I don't know what you're talking about, and I don't see the reason for such an attitude," he snapped, rising. The lights started to flicker, but he made them stop.

"Don't try to deny it! You freaks are always trying to get rid of us! One of you tried to kill the President! Another nearly set Chicago on fire! I bet muties flew the planes into the twin towers! Now there's finally something that can get rid of you. I'm not going to be the one to stop it! Get out before I _make _you get out!"

Doc felt himself getting enraged beyond reason. He managed to bite back a retort and stomped out. _Well, at least now I know why I've heard nothing but "mutants" since we came here. Damn it, why does the populace have to be so close – minded. . . ._

_Uh-oh._

Standing in front of him was the group of people he'd seen before. When he had entered, they had merely been his fellow patients. Now they were his sworn enemy. "You're a mutant?"

Doc played dumb. "Course I'm not. The doctor--"

"We heard the doctor. He said you have mutie cancer. If you're not a mutant yourself, you must be a mutie-lover."

"Mutie-lover!"

"We don't want your kind in our city! You've caused enough trouble!" 

"You've done all this shit to us – time we did some to you!" Doc ducked as the magazines and a few children's toys came flying at his head.

"I say we get him!" the receptionist shouted.

Doc panicked. He had to get out of here before this impromptu mob set upon him! But he was trapped in the doorway. He needed some way to block them, push them back. . . .

His fingers closed around the walkie-talkie in his pocket at the same time his hand snapped against the wall. The mob paused for a moment as Doc's eyes began to glow.

It wasn't the smartest thing they could have done. Doc promptly threw up a "wall" of electrical energy in front of him. The patients quickly backed away, hair standing on end, a few shaking in fear. Doc sighed and shrugged in an apologetic way.

He moved the sparks forward, gently forcing them back until he was able to get around them and to the door. His head turned toward the elevators, sparks of electricity flashing over his eyes. He forced one into motion, bringing it to his floor. As the doors opened, he backed into it, his shield still up. At the very last second, he let it fall and slammed the button for the ground floor. The patients vanished as the doors closed.

Doc slumped against the wall, his eyes returning to normal as he banished his power. _Damn, damn damn! I've shouldn't have used my power. I can just see it on the six o'clock news. "The citizens of New York are warned to be on the lookout for a mutant who terrorized a group of patients today." Exactly the sort of thing that got me into trouble as a teenager. Once I get back to the train, we'll have to leave New York immediately. Damn it. . . ._

_Well, at least the encounter had some use. They know what the disease is. "Mutie cancer."_ Doc felt a shiver go down his spine. _God, what if I have some version of AIDS? Please don't let me have AIDS._

He allowed himself a few seconds of pity, then straightened his back with resolve. _The only thing to do is find a doctor willing to treat a mutant. A Herculean task, but one I must endeavor to accomplish. I'll see if I can find anything on this disease on my own first. I refuse to let this disease beat me._

He cautiously glanced around as the elevator doors opened. Luckily, the mob that had nearly attacked him was nowhere in sight. Doc considered shutting off the power in the building briefly, just to make sure they couldn't follow, but vetoed the idea. Those people upstairs were sick. Most likely they'd just be glad to be rid of him. Plus, controlling such a large amount of electricity at once – especially after already using his power – would give him one _hell_ of a headache. He settled for a hidden obscene gesture to relieve his feelings as he left.

Once outside, he didn't immediately rejoin the throng on the sidewalks. He fingered the walkie-talkie in his pocket. In order to create his protective electrical field, he'd had to drain the batteries. In order to recharge them and get back to his family, he'd need to absorb more electricity from another source. Wishing he could simply generate the needed electricity, Doc began searching for a target.

A "Walk – Don't Walk" signal caught his eye. _Perfect. I don't need a large amount; they won't even notice the blink._ He fought the crowd to the signal, then ever so causally leaned against it. Through his clothes, he could feel the warm tingling of the current flowing through it. He wrapped one hand around the pole and closed his eyes.

Abruptly, his cough came back with a vengeance. Doc bent double, trying not to choke on his own saliva. The group on the crosswalk paused as the sign changed rapidly from "Walk" to "Don't Walk." A motorist blew his horn. "Yo, dipshits, outa the way!"

"Tell it to the f–king signal!"

Doc tried to let go of the sign so he could wait out this latest fit, but couldn't. His fingers felt like they were practically _fused_ to the metal. He took a deep breath as the coughing finally stopped. _What in the name of Sir Issac H. Newton –_

Doc screamed as his nerves exploded. All the electricity from the sign surged into his body. The streetlight went dark as well, confusing everyone. For some insane reason, the energy was too much for his body to bear. With an effort, Doc ripped his hand away from the pole.

It didn't help though. The electricity was already within him. It surged wildy throughout his body, giving nasty shocks to his brain and limbs. The pain nearly forced Doc to his knees. _Great – Scott, is this what it – feels like to be – to be electrocuted? Thank – God I was spared – this for – for 74 years._

A woman, concerned, touched his shoulder. "Sir, are you oooOOOOAAAAAAHHHH!"

She yanked her hand away, twitching. Her clothes and skin were blackened and smoking, her hair on end. Doc, losing all control over his power, had inadvertently electrocuted her.

Other people, drawn as they would be to see a car wreck, came close. Doc flung up a hand in terror. He'd already hurt one person too many. "Don't come near me! DON'T TOUCH ME!"

His point was driven home seconds later. Pain ripped through Doc's mind, making his meager control slip again. Small bolts of lightning obligingly discharged from his fingertips. People ran out of the way as they struck a light pole. The bulb inside lit up, bright as the sun – then exploded.

The crowd began running as fast as they could. Doc almost threw himself into an alley, half-blind with the pain. _Why does it hurt?! _his mind shrieked in protest as the inner electricity tortured him. _It never hurt before! Never! I've lost control of it. I've lost control of my power._

_My power's killing me._

September 6th, 2002

1: 21 P. M.

Josephine Caroline Jones, better known as J. C., tried to ignore the dull ache in her stomach. It had taken almost all of her money just to get to New York, and she _still_ wasn't where she wanted to be. _Thanks to that guy, I've got just over ten bucks left. I've gotta find a way to get more money before –_

_What the hell?_

There seemed to be a mass exodus of New Yorkers from around the corner. A lot of them were screaming and yelling in fear. J. C.'s blood ran cold. _Is it another terrorist attack?_ She grabbed someone's arm as he ran past. "Hey! What's happening?"

"A mutant!" the man yelled at her. "A god-damned mutant! Attacked some woman, then blew up a light pole! He's probably ready to attack the rest of New York!" The fear on his face changed to machismo and anger. "Frickin' mutants! I'm going back there and stopping him! I refuse to be afraid anymore!" He pulled free of J. C. and grabbed some metal pipe someone had thrown out. "Who's with me?"

Four other men joined with him, over their family and friend's loud protests. "Did you _see_ what he did?!"

"Leave him alone!" somebody else yelled. "He didn't mean to hurt _anybody_!"

"He tried to warn us away!"

"Shut up, you mutie-lovers!" a man yelled. 

"_You_ shut up, you bigots!"

"What if he's got Legacy?" someone else pointed out. "You guys want to get it?"

"Listen, everybody," J. C. pleaded, trying hard not to show her fear. "I bet in a minute somebody will come in and take care of the threat. Maybe even the X-Men. You don't have to do this."

"Like hell. Don't talk about things you don't understand, kid." The man and his warriors prepared for battle."

J. C.'s fists clenched. _Things _I _don't understand? Screw you._ She ran past them unnoticed, intending to protect the rogue mutant. With any luck, the X-Men would come, and she could get their help.

The street was mostly deserted now. Some of the streetlights were down, and one light pole had a broken bulb. J. C. shook her head in disbelief. "All this over a burned out light bulb?"

She heard moans in an alley across the street. She ran across and looked in. Her eyes went wide in shock. The target of the mini-mob's rage was – an old man. Specifically, the old man who had handed her the five bucks. He was curled up into the fetal position, crying piteously. "Holy shit."

She looked back and saw the group of five heading their way. J. C. flattened herself against the wall and began to concentrate.

Halfway across the street, the mini-mob stopped. They gaped at the sight before them. For, instead of seeing a pretty much helpless old man, they saw a gigantic red dragon guarding the alley. "What the hell?" one squeaked, moving back a step. "Is he a shapeshifter?"

The dragon lunged at them. The men scattered as the jaws snapped, too close for comfort. The leader made a weak swing at the dragon's flank. It didn't even connect, but it got the dragon's attention. The serpentine neck twisted toward him, yellow eyes glowing bright with rage. Behind them, a spiked tail flicked back and forth. 

The dragon opened its jaws wide, fangs glistening with saliva. The leader screamed in fear and ducked. In desperation, he ran under its neck. It lifted its head, looking almost amused at the humans struggles. Then it inhaled deeply. The monster's chest glowed bright orange with inner fire.

The group of men didn't stick around to see what happened next. Weapons dropping from nerveless fingers, they bolted.

The minute they were out of sight, the dragon vanished. J. C. opened her eyes again, thankful that she'd only had to deal with a small group. If it had been much larger, her only hope of fooling them might have been to smash her head into the wall.

She quickly turned her attention back to the man. "Sir?" she asked gently, keeping a respectable distance. His skin was glowing very brightly, and that worried her.

The man lifted his head. His brown eyes were glowing like his skin, and had little sparks flickering over iris and pupil. "You have to go. Now," he rasped at her urgently.

"But I want to help you," J. C. protested, stepping forward. 

"_GO_! I'm about to discharge!"

"Discharge??"

The man suddenly jammed his right hand into his mouth. He bit down so hard on his knuckles he drew blood. Sparks of electricity manifested from his limbs, converging to form a glowing shell over him. He desperately waved J. C. away with his free hand as the sparks grew more violent and erratic. Understanding now, J. C. fled the alley and took cover behind a nearby dumpster.

There was a surprisingly impressive "POP!!", and a tiny shockwave. J. C. regained her balance quickly and ran back to the alley. The electricity around the man had vanished in a small explosion of sorts, knocking loose one or two bricks from the surrounding buildings. The man lay still, his skin a normal color again. J. C. went to his side and carefully took his pulse. It was there, but whether it was normal or not she couldn't tell. "Must've been knocked out, the poor guy," she murmured, turning him over. "I wonder what happened?"

The man stirred. "Ouch. . . . Kid?"

"I'm right here."

He looked at her with pain-filled eyes. "You have to get away. I'm dangerous."

"It's okay. I think you've been neutralized," J. C. reassured him. "What's your name?"

"Emmett." His body suddenly convulsed. He nearly screamed in agony.

"Emmett, I'm Josephine. I'm here to help. We're gonna have to get out of the area. Some guys were pretty eager to get you for blowing up that streetlight." 

"I didn't_ mean_ to!" Emmett paused to cough very hard for a few seconds. "I don't know what happened. It went totally out of control. All I wanted was to recharge my batteries."

J. C. sighed. "Do you think you can walk?"

Emmett pushed down weakly. "Maybe. If I have assistance."

J. C. helped him to his feet and half-dragged him out of the alley. People, including those previously scared away, were filling the streets again. The mutant pair would have to get away very quickly? J. C. hailed a cab and bundled her sick companion inside. "Where to, miss?" the cabbie asked, starting the meter.

J. C. had to take the risk. "Do you know where Graymalkin Lane is?"

September 6th, 2002

Graymalkin Lane, Westchester County, New York

1: 56 P. M.

Doc was only dimly aware when they arrived at Graymalkin Lane. His electrical escapades had short-circuited his brain, making it hard to think. The girl who had rescued him was trying to keep him awake and alert, but Doc knew it was a losing battle. Frankly, the scientist was glad of it. He didn't want to think about what had just transpired.

The girl – what _was_ her name? Josie? Jackie? Jane? All he could remember was that it began with J – paid the driver, getting him to accept her watch in lieu of most of the fare. She looked at Doc, biting her lower lip. "Can you walk for me again, Emmett?"

"I'll try," Doc promised, giving her a weak smile. She returned it and gently pulled him out of the cab. They stumbled up to a pair of gates together. Doc fuzzily read the sign beside them:

XAVIER'S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED CHILDREN

"I've been trying to come here ever since I arrived in New York," J told him. "They can help us here. They're all mutants, just like us. They have to help us."

They somehow made it to the front door. J rang the doorbell, giving Doc a shake. "Don't fade out on me."

Doc was about to when the door opened. A woman was there, with medium-length red hair and dull green eyes. She saw and recognized Doc immediately. "Dr. Brown!"

Doc marshaled his failing mental resources. "Hi, Jean. I need to call in my favor."

Then he collapsed.


	3. Discovery

Chapter 2

Friday, September 6th

2: 28 P. M.

Marty checked his watch. "Okay, this is _definitely_ not like the Doc. He should have called in by now."

Clara was getting concerned too. "I know, Marty. Even if his appointment was taking longer than anticipated, he would have called in. He's not like this. Emmett would never leave us hanging."

"Leave us hanging" was an ironically appropriate turn of the phrase. The train was currently hovering over a small tract of forest someone owned, awaiting Doc's call. They had planned to fly to a more accessible place once Doc had told them he was ready to meet. Now, though, it appeared those plans would have to be changed.

Jennifer jiggled her leg nervously. She fairly new to the idea of time-traveling – most of her first trip had been spent in unconsciousness. She didn't like not having the inventor of the machine around. "Marty, I don't like this. Being in the future gives me enough willies."

"I don't like it either, Jen," Marty frowned. "Every time I've ended up in a different time period, I knew I could count on the Doc. No matter what, he'd help me. He's not the type to just go off and not keep us updated."

Clara began to pace, wringing her hands. "Do you think he – might be hurt?" she asked hesitantly.

"Jesus, I hope not. After surviving--" Marty shuddered a little. It hurt almost too much to think about the times he had almost lost his best friend. "Well, you know, Clara."

Jules plunked himself down next to Jennifer. "Mama, Marty, maybe we should start looking for Papa. If it was one of us who was lost, he'd look for us."

"Kid's got a point," Marty agreed. "I'll grab the binoculars and check this side. Jen, would you mind grabbing the other side?"

"Not at all." Marty kissed his thanks.

Clara went to the controls. "We'll see if he found his way near here first. It's a long shot, but possible. I haven't turned off our walkie-talkie since he took the other one. Buckle up, boys."

"Maybe we can find out who owns this forest too."

Clara started up the train as Marty and Jennifer started looking. Unfortunately, they were so intent on finding Doc, they missed the group of kids chatting and playing right underneath them. The kids panicked as the train began to move invisibly over them. In terror, they ran back to their school. "Hey! Phoenix! Storm! Cyclops! Wolverine!"

Wolverine – real name Logan – was the one to appear, smoking one of his cigars. His appearance normally intimidated most of the kids, but not today. There was something they were more afraid of today. He could smell their fear. It worried him. "What is it?" he asked roughly.

"Something's flying over the woods," Tracey breathlessly reported. "It was making the weirdest sounds, Logan. Whistles and crackles and stuff."

"What'd it look like?"

"Nothin'," Artie spoke up, face spooked. "We couldn't see anything. We could hear it, but we couldn't see anything."

The rest of the kids nodded in agreement. Logan frowned. This sounded pretty damn serious. After the raid on the school only a few months ago, nobody wanted to take any chances. "Get inside. I'll check this out."

"Check _what_ out, Logan?" asked a voice behind him. Logan turned to see Cyclops – Scott Summers – behind him, face grim. "What's going on?"

"An invisible thing is flying over our woods," Kitty quickly explained.

Scott's face became even grimmer. He glanced over at Logan. The two men weren't friends, but they weren't blood enemies either. Scott decided that there was little danger in letting Logan go first in this. After all, the man _was_ practically invulnerable. "Go on and investigate, but don't do anything drastic. I'm going to get my visor and one of the other X-Men."

"Jean?" Logan couldn't hide the hope in his voice.

Scott shook his head. "She's with Hank, tending to our new patient. The man the new kid brought in. Dr. Brown. Don't ask me why she's so interested in him." He beckoned the kids inside with a slight shake of the head. "Now where was this disturbance?"

Friday, September 6th

2: 37 P. M.

Dr. Hank McCoy finished his examination. "Yup," he sighed. "It's definitely Legacy. He's just starting to move into the later stages of the disease. That accounts for his seizure."

Jean patted Doc's head fondly. "Will the serum work on him, Hank?"

"It should. Can't guarantee it'll look for very long, though." Hank's body felt excruciatingly heavy. "Nice twist of fate the world dealt you, huh? The guy who saved your life ends up dying himself."

"I'll say." Jean summoned over the medicine and syringe. "But then, he's a brilliant scientist. You know that, Hank. He may be able to help you, once he wakes."

"Medicine isn't Dr. Brown's specialty."

"He's got a personal stake in this – his life. He can help in other ways." _Like future technology,_ Jean thought as she filled the syringe.

There was a knock at the door. "Can I come in?" J. C.'s timid voice asked.

"Just a second." Jean administered the shot. Doc winced in his sleep. Jean wished she could quiet him, but she didn't dare. Without his own ability to stop the current in his mind, he could seriously hurt her. "Okay."

J. C. entered, looking firmly at her feet until she nearly bumped into the table. "He _is_ gonna be all right, right?" she asked.

"We hope so." Jean looked at J. C. curiously. "Are you family? His niece, maybe?"

J. C. shook her head, blushing a little. "I kinda rescued him from being beat up by a group of guys with more machismo than brains. He helped me out in the cash department. I was planning to come here anyway – you know, learn how to use my powers. He gave me the courage to get here." She grinned, flushing slightly more. "Plus, he gave me this cute grin when we were en route. . . ."

Jean smiled, sensing the very beginnings of a crush forming in J. C.'s mind. Not that she could blame the teen. Doc was possessed of a great smile. "I'm glad. Dr. Brown and I are friends. I owe him a great deal." The memories came rushing back as she spoke. Alkali Lake. . .the waters. . .bringing her friends to safety. . .Doc and Marty rescuing her at the last moment. . . .

Jean frowned suddenly. "J. C., was Dr. Brown with anyone else when you found him? Specifically, a teenager with medium length brown hair and blue eyes, about as tall as you?" She pressed a picture into the teen's head to complete the identification.

J. C. pondered for a moment, then shook her head. "Nope. He was alone, as far as I could tell. Except. . . ." She snapped her fingers. "During the ride here, he mentioned he needed to contact somebody. I think the name was Marty."

"That's the teen! Hank, we have to check Dr. Brown's pockets for a phone or the like. Marty's Dr. Brown's best friend. If he's here in New York too, he's certainly wondering where 'Doc' is." She grabbed Doc's coat as Hank checked Doc's pants.

There was a walkie-talkie in Doc's left coat pocket. Jean tried to activate it. "Nothing," she muttered. "Damn thing must be dead."

J. C. nibbled her thumbnail. "He mentioned recharging his batteries. Find some new ones."

Jean had a better idea. She glared at the set in her hand, willing it to work. Her eyes glowed faintly fire-red.

The set sputtered to life. She could hear voices – familiar voices. "I don't see anybody. How about you, Jen?"

"Nothing so – hey, wait. I just spotted somebody."

"Is it Emmett?"

"No. It's three people. Two guys and a girl."

Jean let the set go dead. "That was Dr. Brown's family. I'll see if I can find them mentally so we can bring them here."

Friday, September 6th

2: 39 P. M.

Clara continued her slow circles, gradually widening them as they ascended. "What's the report, Marty?"

"I don't see anybody. How about you, Jen?"

"Nothing so – hey, wait. I just spotted somebody."

"Is it Emmett?" Clara asked hopefully.

"No. It's three people. Two guys and a girl."

"Uh-oh. The train's noise must have attracted them. We'd better go before--"

The train was abruptly thrown on its side, throwing them all every which way. Jennifer yelled as she tumbled into Marty. "What the hell?!"

"Just what I was thinking!" Marty yelled back, grabbing her and clinging to the window frame for dear life.

"MAMA!" Jules and Verne yelled as one as they were thrown forward.

An alarm began going off, adding to the confusion. "Oh, shit," Marty moaned. "Please, don't let that be the hover conversion system!"

"No, Marty," Clara gasped in horror as the displays flickered off. "It's the _time_ _circuits_!"

"Oh, _perfect_!"

They heard a rough voice from below, barely audible above the din. "Yeah, there's definitely people in that thing. Might be Magneto."

"If it is, you be on your guard. I'll hit it again."

"NO!" Jennifer shrieked at the top of her lungs, knowing it would make no difference.

A beam of red light shot in front of them, missing the flux capacitor by inches and digging a big scratch into the smokestack. It was quickly followed by another, which blasted through the window, zipped over Marty's head, and punched its way through the wall. The Brown boys goggled. "Wow. . . ."

"Holy shit," Marty whispered, pulling Jennifer as close as possible. "What the hell is that?"

"I almost wish I _was_ sleep-induced," Jennifer whimpered. "I must be a bad-luck charm."

"Aww, Jennifer, don't say that." He kissed her head.

Clara moved toward Jules and Verne, making sure they were okay. "Do you have _any_ idea what that was?" she asked the teens, shaking. 

"Not a clue, Clara," Marty said. "I just hope they don't use it again. Another hit, and we might fall out of the sky."

"God forbid."

The sky outside darkened suddenly, day turning to night. High winds rocked the train to and fro, while thunder echoed in the distance. "Oh, no, not a freak thunderstorm," Marty muttered. "I'm starting to think I should have never gotten out of bed today."

"Second," Jules agreed whole-heartedly.

The winds got stronger. Clara cautiously made her way back to the controls, hoping to fly the train to safety before anything else happened. She was just about to turn, when she spotted the woman. The black woman with long white hair and blank white eyes, held aloft by the winds. Clara screamed and stumbled backward, barely keeping her hold on consciousness.

To her surprise, the woman yelped too, and briefly disappeared. "Goddess!"

Below, Scott and Logan both gasped as the flying thing above them revealed itself. "It's – it's – it's--" Scott stammered, one hand frozen on his visor control.

"It's a _train_!" Logan yelled, for lack of a better thing to do. "A damn flying steam train!"

Kids were thronging to the scene now, drawn by the commotion. All were just as shocked as their teachers. "Since when can trains fly?"

"Do you think it's Magneto?"

"I wouldn't put it past him. . . ."

"This is the weirdest thing. But then, who are we to judge what's weird?"

Marty peeked out his window. "Jesus! You're not going to believe this, but it's a bunch of teenagers! And younger!"

"Kids?" Clara said, baffled. "We're being attacked by _kids_?!"

Scott was preparing to fire again when Jean came racing up. "No! Wait! Scott! Don't shoot!"

Scott paused. "Jean? What's wrong?"

Jean didn't answer him. "Ororo, who's up there?"

"In the – it's a woman, two small boys, and two teenagers."

Jean looked horrified. "Scott, did you already fire at them?"

"They could be from the Brotherhood, Jean. I'm taking no chances."

The telekine shook her head. "They're not from the Brotherhood." Looking up, she yelled with both her mind and her voice, "Marty? Clara?"

Marty blinked. He had suddenly heard a familiar voice both outside and in his head. He looked out the window again. "Holy shit!"

"Marty, I don't think I can take any more surprises," Jennifer complained.

"Me neither. And please, watch your language."

"Sorry, Clara, but Jean's out there!" He got up and threw open the window. "Jean! I'm glad to see you!"

All eyes went in astonishment to Jean. "You _know_ these people?" Scott demanded. 

"_Know_ them? Scott, these are the people that saved my life!"

Scott went pale. "What?"

"Hey, what's going on?" Marty yelled. "We were gonna head out to look for the Doc when somebody started shooting some sort of – death ray at us!"

"That was my boyfriend," Jean said, trying not to laugh. "Are you hurt?"

"Her _boyfriend_?" Jennifer said incredulously. 

Clara came to the window. "Jean, have you seen Emmett around anywhere? We need him rather desperately now. Your – boyfriend ruined some important parts of the train."

"He was just brought in by a new student!" Jean called back. "He's had a seizure. You'd better land and come inside."

"Seizure?" The three glanced at each other. "What do you mean, seizure?"

Jean felt her happiness at seeing her friends fade. "He's very sick. I can explain better once you're on the ground."

"Is Papa okay?" Verne asked, holding tightly to his brother.

"We hope so, honey."

As the train landed, the kids crowded tightly around. "Man, an actual flying train."

"Was that who I thought it was inside?"

"Maybe one of us should get Dr. McCoy to look at this."

"He wouldn't know what to do. Besides, he'd be too busy drooling over it to help us."

Marty was the first to emerge. Jean came up and shook his hand firmly. "It's nice to see you again, Marty."

"Same here. Do you guys make a habit of scaring the heck out of people?"

"Hey, you scared _us_ first!" Artie squawked.

"How the hell do you have a god-damned flying train?" Logan demanded, getting straight to the point.

"It's my friend's. He's – ah – improved it. He's an inventor."

"Could you please watch your language?" Clara added, holding her boys tight. "There's young children here."

"Don't worry, ma'am, we've heard worse from Jean," an anonymous voice said.

"And Papa," Jules grinned. "Remember when he was wiring that up?"

"Don't remind me." Clara looked at Jean worriedly. "Where is Emmett? How is he?"

"In our lab. He's fine – for the moment."

Nobody liked the sound of that. "Jean, we know he's sick. That's the whole reason we're here. To see what it is he's got and if anybody can help him."

Jean frowned, feeling worse now. "You don't know what the disease is?"

"All our doctors were able to tell us was it's doing something to his DNA," Marty confessed. _We're from 1987._

_I thought you might be._ "Rewriting it?"

"Yes," Clara nodded. "If it changes enough, he'll--" she stopped, not wanting to admit the reality.

"I know," Jean whispered. 

"You know what it is?" Marty asked eagerly.

Jean looked into his desperately hopeful eyes. How could she tell him? She'd be breaking a promise and dashing his hopes at the same time. Yet she _had_ to. . . . "Yes, I do. I'll explain inside. Everyone else--"

"It's all right, Jean," a cultured voice said behind her. She turned to see Professor Xavier wheeling up. "I've explained what I can to those who didn't get a chance to see." He regarded Cyclops, Wolverine, and Storm sternly. "I thought it was customary to alert _all_ the X-Men, including myself, in case of emergency."

Cyclops had gone very red in the face, almost matching the ruby quartz of his visor. Wolverine, however, snorted. "Something was scaring the kids. I could have checked it out myself, but Scott insisted in bringing in reinforcements."

"Those were noble sentiments, but nevertheless, you have to follow the rules. Had this really been one of our enemies, you three might have gotten seriously hurt."

"He sounds like a teacher lecturing his students," Jennifer mumbled.

"Well, he is. This is a school for mutants. Scott, Ororo, and I were some of the first students." Glancing at the highly-embarrassed Cyclops, she added, "I guess we still are, in a way."

Xavier turned to the time trippers. He looked friendly enough, but Marty felt a little frightened by those eyes. It felt like Professor X could look right into his head. _Is he a telepath, like Jean?_ "Welcome. I am Professor Charles Xavier. This is Dr. Jean Grey, Professor Scott Summers, Professor Logan, and Professor Ororo Munroe."

"We've met," Clara said, hesitantly shaking Xavier's hand. "I'm sorry for the disturbance. We were looking for my husband in your airspace. That's probably hard to believe, but. . . ."

"I've heard stranger." _Yes, I am, _he thought over to Marty. _That's part of how I know you're not a danger to us._

"Dr. Grey said you have Papa," Jules said politely. "Can we see him please? Mama's really worried."

"Shortly. He's still recovering from the seizure that brought him here." Xavier turned his thoughts to Jean. _I understand your problem very well, Jean. It's hard to tell someone you care about that someone they love is a mutant. These are the people who saved you, correct?_

_Exactly. That's why I'm so scared. I promised Dr. Brown not to reveal his secret. How do you tell the parents, Professor?_

_You just have to tell the as soon as possible. It's hard, but it's always better for them to know. What happened with Robert Drake's parents has convinced me of that._

A girl tapped Marty on the shoulder, holding a piece of paper and a pen. "Excuse me," she said shyly, "but can I have your autograph?"

"My autograph?" Marty glanced at Jennifer, who shrugged in bewilderment. "Well, okay. Who do I make it out to?"

"Marie," the girl said, her Southern accent becoming stronger with her excitement. "Marie and Bobby. We're both big fans of yours."

Marty grinned, scribbling, _To Marie and Bobby, Marty McFly._ "There you go."

"Thanks." Marie brushed her white-streaked hair out of her eyes. Marty noted that almost every inch of skin on her was covered, despite the warmth of the day. "You know, you look younger in person."

Normally, Marty would have been more intrigued (and happy) about this. But right now he was more worried about the fate of his best friend. "Yeah. Listen, did any of you see the Doc when he was brought in? He's a tall guy, long white hair and brown eyes."

"Yeah, some new kid brought him in," someone answered. "He didn't look too good. Like he had Legacy."

"Legacy?"

Jean laid a hand on Marty's shoulder. "Come inside, I'll explain," she said softly, leading them all to the mansion that now doubled as a school.

They reached the door at the same instant that J. C. did. "Dr. Grey? Oh, listen, Dr. McCoy said – ah. Hello," she greeted them, looking puzzled at the new arrivals. "Are you enrolling today too?"

"This is Dr. Brown's family, J. C.," Jean explained to her. "What did Hank want you to tell me?"

J. C. seemed more reluctant to speak. "That stuff you gave him is working fine. He thinks Dr. Brown's going to wake up soon."

"Good. Thanks a lot, J. C."

Professor Xavier looked at J. C. with a frown. "I haven't seen you before, and I make it a point to know all my students."

"You must be Professor Xavier then. I want to enroll here. Can we talk? Please?"

"Of course. Come with me." They went off together, J. C. starting in on what promised to be a lengthy story.

"Stuff? What stuff?" Marty asked.

"What did you to Papa?" Verne asked, half accusingly.

Jean sighed. _Maybe I can skirt the issue. . . ._ "When Emmett was brought in, Dr. Hank McCoy and I identified him as having the Legacy Virus." A nervous ripple went through the students. "It's a very new disease, a mutation of AIDS. We don't know where–" –_or when– _"– he picked it up. That seizure we mentioned was caused by him entering one of the later stages of the disease. Hank and I administered a serum that would temporarily bring him into remission. Until that wears off, he'll be all right."

Marty looked broken-hearted. "When--" he whispered, lip quivering.

"We don't know. Maximum is three to four years, but I doubt it'll last that long. He may be able to tolerate another injection once this one wears off."

Clara sniffled a little, then straightened her back. "What about us? What should we do to protect ourselves?"

Jean hesitated. "You should be fine, it's hard to transmit to others."

"Please, Jean, tell us. Emmett wouldn't want us to get sick as well. He cares too much about us."

Jean's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Clara, you don't have to worry at all. None of you do. Legacy is a strictly mutant-based disease. It doesn't affect baseline humans."

"But it – attacked. . . ." Marty's voice died. The truth hit him like a ton of bricks. Legacy only went after mutants. And it had gotten Doc. Numbly, he shook his head. "No way. It can't be."

"I'm afraid it is," Jean sighed. "Emmett Brown is a mutant."


	4. Legacy and Family

Chapter 3

Friday, September 6th

3: 14 P. M.

Doc opened his eyes wearily, wincing with the effort. He had _such_ a headache. . . . .

"Glad to see you're awake, Dr. Brown."

Doc's head turned. Standing beside him was a man in a doctor's coat. He was thick and burly – the athletic type any football coach would dream of. But his face held an intelligence that matched his size. "I estimated you'd achieve conscious at around this temporal frame."

_What the – I thought only _I_ talked like that._ "Who are you?" he asked, sitting up every so slightly.

"Dr. Hank McCoy," the man introduced himself. As things came into clearer focus, his image began to shimmer a little. Doc blinked a few times. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused," Doc confessed. "How do you know my name?"

Hank grinned behind his glasses. "You're something of a hero to me," he revealed. "I've read about your work in great detail. You have some revolutionary ideas, Dr. Brown. Especially regarding the flux capacitor you mentioned in your papers on temporal physics."

The headache was fading away, allowing Doc to understand why Hank's image was out of focus. "Looks like you have a few revolutionary ideas yourself, Dr. McCoy. That illusion machine works quite well."

Hank – or, rather, the illusionary Hank – went white. "Pardon?"

Doc shrugged. "It's my power. I can see the electrical field disguising you. It distorts the image."

Hank started at him, then shrugged too as he reached into his pocket and clicked off something. Doc gave a little yelp as the real Hank McCoy appeared, dressed only in blank trunks and the white coat. "Great Scott! You're – you're the Beast."

"Ah, you saw that news report." The blue "werewolf" smiled faintly, revealing sharp white fangs. "I fear they've put the wrong spin on my objectives. I intended merely to frighten the protesters away so the family would be left in peace."

"Was the victim a friend of yours?" Doc asked politely.

The smile vanished. "No. But I know intimately what killed him. The same thing that's killing you."

Doc felt his hopes rise again. "You know what this disease is, then. Can you help me? The last doctor I saw – right before my unfortunate seizure – refused to treat me. He acted like--" Doc felt a shiver go up his spine. "Like I had AIDS. 'Mutie cancer.'"

"The proper name for the virus is Legacy. It's a mutated version of AIDS that appeared about three months ago. It targets only mutants."

"So my family is safe, at any rate," Doc said in relief. "I have a wife and two children, and a best friend who's like a son to me."

"They should be fine. Even if one of your children should happen to carry the mutant gene, Legacy singles out mutants who have gone active – can use their powers." Hank became quite grim. "That seizure you had was indicative of your body's progression to the next stage of the disease. If J. C. Jones hadn't found you, you probably would have ended up--"

"Dead," Doc finished. "I don't doubt it. When I had the seizure, it felt like I was dying." He glanced around, for the first time taking in his surroundings. "Where am I?"

"Xavier's School for Gifted Children. A school for mutants, those who have the greatest chance of going active. They learn how to control their powers, and get a darn good education in the meantime."

Doc remembered his last impressions before fainting. "Jean works here. How is she? And the girl who rescued me? J. C.?"

"They're both fine. I believe Jean was going to explain things to your family."

"Clara? Marty? Jules? Verne? Jennifer? They're here?" Hank nodded. "How on earth did they find me? The walkie-talkie I was supposed to contact them with was dead."

"They didn't." Hank grinned again. "Their train appeared in our airspace."

_Uh-oh. Why in the name of Sir. Issac H. Newton would they choose to show themselves? They know the dangers. That's the whole reason I installed the invisibility device._ "If you want to hear the story on the train, Dr. McCoy, it'll have to wait. It's an extremely long story. Suffice it to say, it took me many years and a lot of hard work to build it." A frightening thought occurred to the scientist. "Great Scott, they didn't crash, did they?! Are they all right?"

"Affirmative. A little shook-up but fine."

Doc smiled. "Great. And I'll bet they'll feel even better once I tell them I can finally get some help with this damned disease."

Once again, the smile vanished. "Dr. Brown – I've already done all I can to help you."

"Pardon?"

"Jean and I gave you a serum that will temporarily halt Legacy's destructive rewriting of your DNA – mostly by giving it junk DNA to feed on. Once it wears off, I'm afraid there's nothing else we can do but try another injection."

Doc's own smile withered. "Are you positive?"

"I'm not even sure if another shot would work. The longer Legacy is in your system, the faster it works." Hank's entire furry body slumped. "I've been working like mad on a cure, but it refuses to come. The serum was a lucky break, but I couldn't use it as a jumping-off point. Trust me, I tried."

"How long do I have?"

"The maximum would be three to four years. Considering you were just entering a later stage, I can't guarantee it'll last that long."

Doc nodded slowly, part of him wanting to cry. "Thank you for not hiding the truth from me. And for giving me a little more time." He swung his legs over the side of the table. "I want to see my family. They need to know about this new development."

"Do they know you're--"

Doc shook his head. "No. And I'd like to keep it that way," he said, more harshly than he'd intended. In a softer voice, he added, "You know how my own hometown considers me if you've read up about me. They think I'm a freak – a monster. I don't want my family to think that."

Hank could understand. After Professor Xavier had inadvertently strengthened his own "beast" mutation, he hadn't been able to tell his loved ones either. It was the whole reason he had built the image inducer. "I won't say anything unless I have to."

"Thank you, Dr. McCoy. Or Hank, if I may."

"You most certainly may."

Friday, September 6th

2: 56 P. M.

The group of time trippers all gathered at a lunch table, trying to make sense out of what Jean had told them. Questions raced through their minds. _Why didn't he tell us? But that's obvious. He was scared to death. What can he do? Can he hurt us? When did _he_ know? Are the kids mutants as well?_

Marty jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Marie, along with a group of friends. "Didn't mean to startle you," she apologized.

"It's okay. I'm just having a hard time accepting this." He and Jennifer scooted over, letting the gang sit down. "Are you guys all mutants?"

"Tested and true," one nodded, an Asian girl with lots of tight-fitting necklaces and bracelets.

Jennifer shook her head. "It's weird. Whenever we read about mutants, they were always – older."

"We've never met ones–" Marty just stopped himself from saying, "our own age." "You know, who are teenagers."

"Most of us hadn't either, when we first got here," a Midwestern kid agreed. "I was surprised to meet so many others."

Jules and Verne regarded them curiously. "Do you mind if we ask what makes you special?" Verne said, a touch shyly.

The boy sitting beside Marie grinned. "I'm Bobby," he introduced himself, holding out a hand. Clara shook it. "Call me Iceman."

Bobby's hand became tinged with blue, and a thin sheet of frost spread over both his hand and Clara's. Clara broke the grip, rubbing her hand to warm it. Jules and Verne giggled.

"I'm Kitty," a standing brunette said. "My codename's Shadowcat." With that, she walked right through a chair and sat in it. Marty and Jennifer both whistled in amazement.

"Jubilation Lee," the Asian girl said, holding her hand out in front of her. "Better known as Jubilee." Sparks shot up her fingers into her palm. They formed a kind of firework, which exploded with a small pop. Jules applauded, making her blush.

"I'm Jaime," the Midwestern boy nodded, running his hand through his curly brown hair. "I don't think I should demonstrate my power. If I get bumped or sneeze or something, I can clone myself."

"Same here," nodded the chubby-cheeked redhead behind him. "Tracey, codename Siryn. I can scream _really_ loud."

"Like a fire engine?" Verne wondered.

"Louder."

"Like Verne when he doesn't want a bath?" Jules grinned.

"Hey, take that back!"

"Make me! It's true!"

"Boys, no fighting," Clara told them firmly, placing her hands between them before they could start hitting each other. "We're here to see how your father is."

"Will Papa be able to do the same cool stuff?"

Clara, Marty, and Jennifer all frowned at one another. "He should. . . ." Marty said hesitantly. "I wonder what his power _is._ I've never seen him use it. At least, I don't _think_ I've ever seen him use it. What about you, Clara, you're married to him. Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Nothing that wasn't part of his normal eccentricities, or future technology in my case."

"Jennifer?"

"Nope. I don't know him as well as you anyway."

"Just thought I'd check." He turned back to the group. "How did you guys find out?"

"Mostly when we did something really weird nobody could explain," Tracey said.

"When I walked through my closet door one morning," Kitty elaborated. "I was in a hurry because it was the day of midterms, and I didn't even think about it until after exams."

"I sneezed in the woods, and found five more of me afterwards," Jaime confessed.

Marie studied her gloved hands, looking near tears. "I kissed my old boyfriend – and put him into a coma," she whispered. Then, trying to make it a joke, she added, "I have this nasty habit of sucking the life out of anyone I touch with bare skin."

None of the non-mutants knew how to respond to that. Jennifer finally reached over and gave Marie's hand a gentle squeeze of sympathy. She brightened a little. "It's not as bad as it sounds. As long as I'm covered up, everybody's safe. And I can touch for about a second or two." Her eyes darted briefly up to Bobby with that statement. Bobby smiled back.

"So Doc's power could be almost – anything?" Marty asked.

"Yeah, basically."

"Geez." Marty glanced at his watch. "Maybe we should ask somebody if he's--"

Marty's nostrils suddenly filled with the scent of brimstone. There was a soft "bamf" behind him, then a voice. "_Guten tag_."

The teen thought he recognized that. _Isn't that German for "good day?" Too bad Doc isn't here; he'd know. _"_Guten tag_," he replied, turning around. "Or – Aah!"

Marty started back, along with Jennifer and Clara. Standing behind him was – was – well, it looked something like a demon. It was blue, with bright yellow eyes, pointed ears, and a pointed tail. His teeth were very sharp, and his hands had only two fingers and a thumb each. The Browns, Marty, and Jennifer openly gawked.

The demon smiled apologetically. For a demon, he had a nice smile. "I am sorry," he said politely, with a thick German accent. "I didn't mean to frighten you." With a theatrical bow, he added, "I am Kurt Wagner. In the Munich Circus, I was known as the Incredible Nightcrawler."

Jules and Verne waved their hello. Marty found his voice. "Hi, I'm Marty," he said, hesitantly offering a hand, which Kurt shook. "Sorry for staring, but I just don't know many – blue people."

Kurt grinned, unembarrassed. "I don't know many people with flying trains."

"I take it the news has spread all over the school," Clara sighed. "Emmett's going to be furious with me. I didn't even realized I had backed into the invisibility lever."

"I think Doc'll be too concerned about the damage to the train to really get mad." He cocked his head. "Mr. Wagner, do you know where Doc is? He's an older-looking guy, tall with white hair."

Kurt shook his head. "Sorry. I wasn't around when he was brought in. I was with Ororo."

"Ororo?"

"Me," said the black woman Clara had seen before, joining them. "I'd like to apologize to you for scaring you like that. But we've had problems before with the security at this school. We had to make sure you weren't a threat. Trust me, you scared me just as much when you revealed yourselves."

Clara chuckled a little. "Apology accepted, Miss Ororo–?"

"Munroe. Codenamed Storm."

"How did you fly up to see the train?" Jules asked. "Papa told us people didn't evolve as aerodynamic beings."

Ororo lifted an eyebrow. "Your husband is going to love Hank McCoy," she said. "That's my power. I can control the weather. I simply summoned a wind to lift me up."

"And tell your dad to tell that 'aerodynamic' stuff to Warren – a.k.a. Angel," Kitty added. "He grew _wings_."

"Cool."

Bobby grinned. "Man, I never thought I'd meet people who didn't seem bothered by the idea of hanging around mutants."

"After what we've seen, you guys look pretty normal," Marty said, Jennifer nodding enthusiastically. "Besides, I know what it's like to be judged." _Not exactly as a mutant, but a time traveler's pretty close._

Jennifer suddenly spotted Doc coming in, with a burly man in glasses. "Hey, guys, there he is!"

Everyone looked toward the door. Clara and Marty exchanged a nervous glance. _Well, at least he looks all right. But how do we reveal that we know his secret? _"Yo! Doc!" Marty yelled.

Doc turned and saw them. Relieved that they were all right, he grinned broadly. "How are you?" he asked, walking up. "And why in the name of Sir Issac H. – Newton. . . ."

The smiled disappeared as he slowed to a stop. Too late, Marty and Clara realized they had been moving back from him – like they were afraid of him. It took Doc only a moment to figure out what must have happened. He stared at them a moment, looking like he was about to cry, then turned and fled.

"Emmett, wait!" Clara yelled, jumping to her feet.

"Doc!" Marty felt like the biggest heel that had ever lived. "Jeez, I didn't – _mean_ to do that. I got to thinking about him being a mutant and – geez." 

Ororo put a hand on Clara's shoulder. "Maybe you should give him some space. He obviously didn't expect you to know."

Clara shook her head. "I have to talk to him. I can't have him think I'm afraid of him, or that I hate him."

"_We_ have to talk to him," Marty corrected. "I'm just as bad as you are."

_I suspect I'm the worst of the lot._

The non-mutants started a little. "Jean? That you?"

_Yeah. I'm with Scott. _Marty almost felt her faint smile. _The poor guy's so embarrassed, he can't even face you._

A male voice broke in. _Listen, I'm really sorry. I should have thought before I acted. It's just that–_

_Miss Munroe already explained to us. We're sorry for frightening you like that._

_Well, if you ever need a favor, I'll be happy to help._

Jean's voice came back. _I owe you an apology too. I promised Emmett I wouldn't reveal his secret._

_Too late for that now. Do you know where he is?_

There was a moment of silence. _Upstairs, in the dormitories. I think in Bobby's room – I'm finding it hard to lock in on him._

Marty frowned. _Uh, where are the dorms?_

_You'll have to listen closely, Marty. It can get confusing. Every new student gets lost at least once._

"_Nein_, Jean. I can take them. I know where the room is," Kurt said kindly.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Wagner," Clara said, eyes grateful. "This means a lot to us."

"I'm glad to do it." He motioned Marty and Clara over. "Jean, can you give me as specific a spot as you can? _Danke._" Rather abruptly, he pulled the two into his arms.

"Yo, Wagner, you're a nice guy–" Marty began, slightly embarrassed.

"Excuse my manners, but I must hold you close. I'm a teleporter."

"Huh?"

And then, everything went black.

Friday, September 6th

3: 22 P. M.

Doc sat on Bobby's bed, trying hard to keep from losing control of his emotions. They knew. They knew, and they were afraid of him. A tear slid down his cheek. In sympathy to his emotions, the lights dimmed.

Suddenly, he heard something "bamf" into existence outside. "This is the place," a German voice said.

"That was weird," Marty's voice replied, obviously a little shocked. "No offense, but it's not my favorite way to travel."

"It's harder with a passenger," the German voice said.

"I feel rather ill now," Clara's voice admitted.

"Harder _on_ the passenger as well. Your husband should be here, _fraulein._"

Clara peeked in and saw Doc on the bed. "Emmett? Can I come in?"

"Sure." Doc's shoulders heaved in a sigh. "If you want."

Clara sat on the bed beside him. "Emmett, I'm sorry. It was just the shock speaking."

"Of knowing I'm a mutant?" Doc's voice was bitter. "Jean promised me. She _promised_ me she wouldn't tell!" The lights briefly jumped to full brightness, then dimmed again.

Clara blinked a moment to clear her vision. "Emmett, we made her tell. I insisted on knowing what was wrong with you, and how we could keep from getting sick. I knew you wouldn't want us to be in danger."

Doc sighed again. "You don't have to worry. You and Marty and Jennifer are all humans. And even if Jules and/or Verne carries the gene, it won't affect them unless they go active. That won't happen until puberty."

The former frontierwoman didn't know what to say. "I'm glad" might convince him of her fear. _At least back in my native time, problems could usually be dealt with head-on. _"I don't want you to be sick."

"Me neither," said Marty, who had slipped in. "You gotta believe us, Doc. We don't hate you. In fact, Jules and Verne seem proud to have a father who's a mutant." Doc gave him an incredulous look. "I'm not lying. Some of the younger mutants showed off their powers to them. They weren't scared at all."

"I can vouch for him," Kurt added, coming into the room like a shadow. Doc jumped a little. "I am Kurt Wagner. In the Munich Circus, I was known as the Incredible Nightcrawler."

"You tell that to everybody you meet?" Marty smiled.

"_Ja._ I'm proud of my past." He smiled at Doc, yellow eyes seeming to glow in the dim light. "We're very lucky, _herr doktor. _I was raised by Gypsies who don't care what I look like. Both of us are blessed with families who don't care what we are."

Doc looked from Kurt to Marty to Clara. They all grinned encouragingly. "Really? You don't care that I'm a mutant?" he said, the lights rising again.

"It'll take some getting used to. But then, I think we've both done a lot of that," Clara said, winking at Marty.

Doc laughed and embraced her. "I'm so glad. I was afraid that, if I told you, that I'd lose you." He got up and gave Marty a hug too. "After all I've gone through back home, I never wanted that to happen."

"After all _we've_ gone through, we don't want to lose you either." Marty frowned at the lamps. "What the heck's the – deal. . . ."

He looked at Doc, suddenly wondering. Doc nodded. "It's my power. I can control electricity."

"_Control_ it? How?" Clara asked.

Doc hesitated a moment. "Hank did tell me there was no danger now," he mumbled. He reached out toward a lamp. It glowed brightly for a second. With a slight pull, Doc stole the electricity from it and brought it into his hands. His eyes began to glow as he manipulated it, forming it into a mini-lightning storm.

Marty and Clara watched in amazement. "That's pretty cool."

Doc smiled and blushed. "Thank you." He looked down on it, making it into various shapes. "I don't know how to explain it. I can feel the current, and use it for my own purposes. I can't put it into better words than that."

"When did you know?"

"I first manifested my power on December 6th, 1937 – about two months after my 16th birthday. I was walking with my sister Emily when a bunch of bullies I knew came upon us. I convinced them to leave Emily alone and focus on me. She was reluctant to go at first, but I assured her I'd be all right. She continued on while I let those hoods have their kicks. The day was intensely windy, and we both wanted to get home as soon as possible. One of the bullies – I believe his name was Stephen – sensed this, and parked his car right in my way as soon as they let me go."

Doc took a deep breath. "Suddenly, a gale knocks down a recently installed power line – brand new. Right into Emily's path. She's trapped – can't get around Stephen's bulky car, can't get past the electrical line. Stephen runs to the car and tries to move it, but the engine has frozen. I try to run over and help her, but two other guys grab my arms. They may not like me, but they certainly don't want to be responsible for my death."

He illustrated the next part with his bit of current. "I was staring straight at that power line, terrified my sister was going to be electrocuted. I mentally screamed at the electricity to go back, to not hurt my sister. _It does_. It pushes back, creating a dead zone my sister can safely sprint across. Once I see that she's safe, I release my hold on the power, and faint dead away." Doc let his sparks go out. "Of course, I didn't realize what I'd done at the time. I understood what I was four months later. My father and I were having an argument, and I got so angry I exploded a few light bulbs and used the electricity to give him a shock. I was horrified by what I had done later, but by then my father had kicked me out of the house."

Clara had a thought. "It was you earlier, wasn't it?" she said. "When all the electrical equipment in the train started to malfunction. It was because you got angry, isn't it?"

Doc nodded. " I can bend the current to my will, but as a result it responds to my emotions too. The lights were low earlier because I was sad."

"Now I know why all the light switches in your house are dimmers," Marty grinned. "So you can use your power without anyone knowing. Can you make any electricity?"

"You mean produce it in my body? No. My body naturally produces more electrical current than normal due to my power, but I can't up the production. I _can_ use it like other current."

Marty suddenly got a suspicious look on his face and leaned in. "Hey, how much electricity can you handle?"

Doc knew what he _really_ wanted to ask. "I don't know. I only know that, if I handle an extremely large amount, I start getting sick. Manipulating a lightning bolt could send me to my bed for about a day."

The suspicion was replaced by guilt. "Sorry. I'm just glad you're okay." He hugged his best friend again.

Clara kissed his cheek. "Want to try that reunion downstairs again?"

"Certainly. But you'll have to lead the way. I'm ashamed to say that I was blind with grief when I found my way up here. I don't know if I could find my way back."

Clara blushed faintly. "Mr. Wagner took us up here too. Would you mind bringing us back down?"

"Not at all," Kurt said graciously. "And you can call me Kurt. I don't mind."

"Thanks Kurt. He's a teleporter," Marty informed Doc. "Why don't you take us down one at a time, though. It'll make it easier on all of us."

Kurt looked grateful. "_Danke._" He pulled Marty close, then disappeared with a blast of brimstone and a "bamf." 

A moment later, he was back again. "The _doktor_ or his _fraulein_ next?"

"I'll go," Doc said. "I have to apologize to the boys." He stepped into Kurt's embrace. There was a moment of icy blackness, then he was downstairs again. Jennifer was hugging Marty while the boys made faces. "Do you do that when your mother and I kiss?"

Jules and Verne nodded, grinning. Doc had to laugh as Kurt vanished one last time.

Hank was with the group now, looking concerned. "Are you all right, Dr. Brown?"

"Yes. It was foolish of me to run away. I'm sorry."

"Some of us have done worse," Ororo assured him. "A good number of our students are runaways."

"Even so, I'm a grown man. I should know that running solves nothing." He picked up Jules and Verne. "So – what do you think about having a mutant for a father?"

"I bet you're really cool," Verne said.

"Heavy, like Marty would say," Jules nodded. Doc smiled.

Another "bamf," and Clara arrived on the scene. "Thank you, Kurt," she said. "I hope we didn't overtax you."

"Not at all," Kurt said. He did seem to be pretty perky. Doc noticed Ororo discreetly making eyes at him. _Aha,_ he thought, trying not to giggle. "I was glad to help."

Doc turned his attention back to Hank. "Hank, I'd like to help you with your search for the cure to Legacy."

"I'd appreciate it very much. But I don't want to delay your return home."

"We're going to be here a while," Jennifer said. "Jean's boyfriend did a number on the train." Doc went pale. "Until Doc can fix it, I think we're pretty much stuck here."

"What's this about the train?"

"They thought that we were going to attack them. We can worry about it tomorrow, Emmett. I don't want you straining yourself, not so soon after your reprieve."

Doc grudgingly consented. "Hank, I'm in my 70s. I don't want to lose any more time with my family. I want to help."

Hank smiled, just a little. "Thank you. I would really enjoy working with you, Dr. Brown. And if no one else objects, you can stay in the mansion while you're fixing your train." Everyone agreed with that.

"Then what are we waiting for? Tell me about the research you've been conducting."


	5. Some Embarrassing Confessions

Chapter 4

Friday, September 6th

8: 10 P. M.

Marty bumped into Doc outside his temporary room. "Oh, hey. How're you feeling?"

"Better than I have. The serum seems to be suppressing my cough. How are you?"

"Okay. I played some foosball with Bobby, Marie, and Kitty." Marty smiled. "Kitty kept reaching through the glass and putting the ball on our side."

Doc laughed. "Not exactly what I would call using your powers in a responsible manner!"

"Yeah, and we lost anyway!" Marty turned sober suddenly. "Doc – have you ever used--"

Doc knew what the kid wanted to ask. "I've hurt people unintentionally, but those are few and far between." His body gave a little shake, remembering the woman who had touched him during his seizure. "Intentionally, I've misused my power twice. Once against my father, like I told you. The other was against Buford Tannen."

Marty snorted, a disgusted look on his face. "What did that asshole do?"

"He – he made a number of disparaging remarks about Clara – and you. This was still when I thought--" Doc paused for a moment, stemming the flood of emotion. "– that my carelessness with the time had – you know. I completely lost my head. It was a stormy night, and, in my anger, I was able to summon a lightning bolt to strike him down. I was sick for days afterward."

Marty's eyes were huge. "Did you kill him?"

Doc nodded, closing his eyes against the memory. "Yes, I did. I didn't affect the space-time continuum that much, though. Turns out he was supposed to die shortly after we had left. He died a day later than normal."

"That's not so bad." Marty reached out and gave Doc's arm a quick squeeze. "He deserved it, really."

"Still no reason to kill someone. It takes too great a toll on you." He sighed. "I might have hurt more people today, if J--"

Doc's eyes snapped open wide. "J. C.! Great Scott, I completely forgot about her!"

"J. C.? That girl who was with Professor Xavier?"

"Short blond hair, about your height?" Marty nodded. "That's her! Marty, she probably saved my life by bringing me here! I never even thanked her."

"Doc, she can't be that hard to find," Marty said, wanting to calm him. "She wanted to enroll here. If we ask around, somebody's bound to have seen her."

Doc took a deep breath. "You're right. We have to go through this logically. First step – locate some students who know the mansion."

"I bet Marie and Bobby would know. Bobby told me he practically memorized the map of this place after getting lost three times. They might still be downstairs."

"No need to ask them," a gruff voice spoke up. Doc and Marty turned to see Logan at the end of the hall. He smirked at them. "I know every kid in this school – including the new girl."

"Well, any idea where she is?"

"Down in the girl's wing, obviously. With Kitty and Tracey." He stretched a crick out of his neck.

Marty frowned at him. "Weren't you one of--"

Logan snorted, cutting him off. "Yeah, I was. And if you're looking for an apology, forget it. We did what we needed to. You don't act, you don't survive."

Marty looked a little put out. "Trust me buddy, I know about surviving."

"Really." Logan seemed amused. "Somebody like you, on the fast track."

Doc decided to put a halt to this before Marty either knew too much about his future or got angry. "Give us some directions, and we'll be on our way."

"It's down the hall, turn right, down another hall, turn left, first door on the right." He smirked again at Marty. "Think you can handle that?"

Logan suddenly jumped. Marty noticed Doc's eyes flash with a bit of electricity. "There's disadvantages to a metal skeleton, huh?" Marty tried not to laugh.

Logan went stiff, his claws extending with a "snickt." Whatever laughter there had been in Marty's throat now died. "How the hell did you know?"

"The same way I gave you that little shock. I can 'see' electricity – feel it. Something in your body was affecting the pulses given off by your nerves, and it wasn't your mutation. Due to the lightning-fast conduction it offered, I assumed it was metal."

The claws went away. "Nobody told me."

Very quietly, Marty asked, "Is that your mutation?"

"No. I've got this healing ability that makes it near-impossible to hurt me. Some asshole named Stryker decided to give me claws."

"Why?" Now the teen understood Logan's attitude toward him. Having a metal skeleton put in you – that was _really_ surviving.

"Don't remember. But you don't want to get on the wrong end of them."

"You don't want to get on my bad side either. We've been through a lot more than you might think." With that, Doc and Marty started walking.

Once they were out of earshot, Marty looked at Doc. "Did you hurt him?"

"Not really. Just a little jolt to get him to stop belittling you. It was annoying me. Be careful around him. He's inherently unstable."

"You're not telepathic too?"

"This relates to the metal skeleton. Whatever that Stryker fellow did to implant it, he irreparably damaged the nerves. He was able to heal back the damage, but it forever affected his brain."

"Creepy. At least he's on our side."

"Let's hope it stays that way." They located the room. Doc knocked gently. "Hello?"

No reply. Marty cracked the door open and looked around. He yelped and pulled his head back, eyes wide. "What is it?" Doc asked.

"Doc, you're not going to believe this, but – it was a desert."

"Come now!"

"I'm serious! Look for yourself!"

Doc opened the door. It _was_ a desert – Southwestern if he knew his geography. The kind you might find in one of the "Wile E. Coyote/Roadrunner" cartoons. Instead of being astonished, though, Doc laughed. "It's okay, Marty. It's just an illusion."

Marty cautiously looked inside. "But – heck, it looks real. How the hell can you tell it's fake?"

"Once again, my power. My brain produces more electrical current than normal people's. As a result, it's darn near impossible to use mental powers on me, i.e. illusions or telepathy. If I consciously quiet the current, then I can be fooled, but all other times no. I see what you see, but it's distorted – I can get a sense of the room as well. One of the girls must be projecting it."

"Well, it's not Tracey or Kitty. That leaves your J. C."

Doc concentrated, looking beyond the fuzzy image of the desert to the room. He spotted a blond head on the third bed down, one with familiar short hair. Very quietly, he went up and tapped her shoulder. "J. C.?"

J. C. came awake, causing the illusion to fade. Marty looked visibly relieved. "Who's there?" she mumbled, turning over.

"It's me. Dr. Brown."

J. C. smiled up at him. "Oh, hi. Haven't seen you since this afternoon. How are you?"

"Fine now. I just wanted to say thank you for helping me the way you did."

"Yeah, me too," Marty smiled. "I'm Marty, Doc's best friend. It meant a lot to me and his family."

J. C. blushed, looking at the blanket as she pulled herself to a sitting position. "Well, it's not like I could just _leave_ you there, Dr. Brown. Until things get better, us mutants have to stick together."

Her eyes suddenly flicked worriedly toward Marty. "I know what he is, and I don't give a shit. In fact, I think it's pretty cool," he added, grinning. "Show her what you can do, Doc."

Doc made the lights flicker for a few seconds. J. C. relaxed. "That's really cool. People can be so dumb about others." A look of pain passed briefly across her face. "I was headed to this place anyway guys. I wanted to learn how to use my power. Or, more accurately, how to _stop_ using it."

Marty looked puzzled. "What do you mean? Looks like it was working fine."

J. C. groaned. "That's my problem! I'm an illusionist. For some reason, my power gets stronger if I'm unconscious. If I'm awake, I can only make a small group of people see the illusion. When I'm sleeping, though. . . ." She waved her hand to encompass the room. "Anybody can get tricked."

Doc frowned thoughtfully. "That is odd. What did the teachers here have to say about it?"

"Professor X told me it was just a fluke due to my mutant gene. He put me in here because I'm sort of protected if Tracey starts screaming. Illusion myself, so to speak."

Marty pulled up a chair. "What's J. C. stand for?"

"I recall you telling me your name was Josephine," Doc said.

"Yeah. Josephine Caroline Jones. But all my friends call me J. C. My mom and dad, they called me Josie."

"Do they know, if you don't mind me asking?"

J. C. looked back down at the sheets. "About me being a mutant? Yes. They do. My dad – no, Richard Jones, I won't call him Dad anymore. Richard is – a member of the Purifiers." Doc and Marty exchanged shocked looks. "He was the first to find out what I could do – walked in on me while I was crashing after school one day. When he found out--" J. C. tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but couldn't. "He – he called me – 'mutant hell spawn.' His own daughter." Tears began to run down her cheeks. "He told me there was no way I could be his daughter, that Mom had to have – tainted herself to have me. Mom denied it, of course. Shrieked that she wouldn't give birth to a monster. I tried to explain things to them, but they didn't listen. Richard smashed up a lot of my stuff, then threw me out of the house at gunpoint."

Marty noticeably stiffened. After seeing Doc threatened with guns, and being threatened himself, in at least three different times, he now hated guns. Seeing someone get shot was liable to make him very ill. "Bastard," he muttered. "I'm sorry, J. C. I shouldn't have asked."

J. C. wiped her eyes. "No, it's okay. I needed to tell someone. Get it out of my system. But – damn. I never thought – my own parents--" Her breath started to falter. "Never mind. I made it here. That's the important thing. I made it here. Now I'm with people who'll like me – I hope."

Doc patted her back in a comforting manner. "Well, I'll be here for you, J. C. I owe you."

"Same here. We're your friends," Marty added.

J. C. smiled. "Thanks a lot, Marty, Dr. Brown."

"Call me Doc. All my friends do."

"Okay then – Doc." She giggled, her red eyes still smiling.

"Nice to have met ya, J. C.," Marty said, shaking her hand. "You need anything, you ask us."

"Thanks. I appreciate it." She settled herself back down. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"You bet." The boys tiptoed out, allowing J. C. to re-establish her illusion.

Once they were out of earshot, Marty nudged Doc teasingly. "Hey, Doc, she likes you."

"I expect she would. I showed her kindness. Before I knew her name, I gave her five dollars."

"You know what I mean. She's got a crush on you."

"Nonsense!"

"It's true! I saw the way she was looking at you. She thinks you're cute."

"No she doesn't."

"Yes she does! She was looking at you the way Clara does sometimes. She really thinks you're – hot, I don't know."

Doc flushed. "I wonder how she came to _that_ opinion. No, she must have the crush on _you._ All the other girls do, according to what I saw down there."

"That's because I'm apparently famous." Doc gave him a stern look. "Relax, Doc, Marie asked me for an autograph. That's how I know. I haven't been asking around. And it's not like I can _tell_ them I'm their age."

"True. I'm glad you haven't been seeking out information."

"Well, actually, I do have one question. From Jennifer. We still have two kids?"

"To the best of my recollection. You may have more, but I know you have two."

"Thanks. Jennifer was curious – you know, when she ended up in our future house. We already promised ourselves that we're not naming our son Marty Jr."

"Ah. What about your daughter?"

Marty shrugged. "We'll see when it happens. Personally, I like the name Marlene."

"That's all that matters, Marty. The future is ever-changing."

"Especially when we're in it," Marty grinned.

Saturday, September 7th, 2002

Graymalkin Lane, Westchester County, New York

8: 20 A. M.

After a wonderfully refreshing sleep, the time trippers headed down to breakfast with the rest of the students. J. C. was already up, chatting amiably with Kitty. She waved them over. "Have the pancakes; that's what everyone else has been telling _me_," she advised them.

"You meet any of the other teachers yet?" Kitty asked her.

"Scott, and Ororo, and Kurt." A slight flush came to her face as she said Kurt's name. "He's kinda cute."

"I know," Kitty sighed. "I keep wondering what color his eyes are."

"Not Scott, Kurt."

"_Kurt_???" Kitty looked baffled. "No offense against him, he's very nice, but – J. C., he's blue and has a tail."

"So? I've seen the way Ororo looks at him already. She thinks he's hot too."

"I'll give you that. Everybody in the school knows those two like each other."

Doc and Marty sat down, having grabbed their food. "Who are you talking about?" Marty asked through a hash brown.

"Kurt Wagner," Kitty said. "J. C., is it the accent? German's not the sexiest I've ever heard, but--"

"I dunno. Maybe I just like older men." She suddenly blushed and looked at her pancakes.

"Told ya," Marty whispered to Doc, who blushed too. Kitty tried to hide her giggles.

"I really should look at the train today," Doc said quickly as Clara, Jennifer, and the boys came over. "I have to see what damage's been done to it. Hopefully some of it can wait until we're safely back home again." He sighed. "Part of me wishes I'd brought the DeLorean remote along. I could send the rest of you home and stay here by myself."

"I'd prefer to be lost with you," Clara said, kissing his cheek.

"Same here," Jennifer agreed. "I don't like being away from familiar surroundings. You know that, when I got lost the first time when you guys were trying out the DeLorean."

"Jennifer, I've apologized for that. The hover-conversion systems were brand-new, and I was inexperienced. Could I do it over again, you would have stayed safely with us."

"I know, Doc, I forgave you."

"What happened?" J. C. and Kitty asked, curious.

"A big mess with me being mistaken for someone else," Jennifer summarized. Doc grinned at her proudly. _She learns fast. I couldn't have put it better myself._

Hank, Jean, and another man wandered over. Marty recognized his ruby-lensed glasses. "You must be Scott." The man nodded. "Can I ask what the hell you were using to attack us? It looked like a death ray."

Jean giggled while Scott blushed. "Actually, I was only using my eyes. They emit powerful optic beams. Without theses glasses or my visor, I could punch holes in mountains."

The Brown family abruptly realized how lucky they'd been. "I pity the mountain that gets in your way."

Scott smiled, just a little. "I never would have done what I did if I'd known you were the guys who saved Jean."

"He probably would have kissed you then," Kitty teased.

"Katherine. . . ."

"What exactly do those optic beams do?" Doc asked. "It could be important information for when I see the train."

"Can I see it?" J. C. asked eagerly. "I missed the spectacle yesterday 'cause I was downstairs with you. I was helping Dr. McCoy."

"Regular little nurse," Hank said. "She said you looked cute asleep."

"DOCTOR MCCOY!!" There was that blush again! J. C. buried her face in her hands. "You shouldn't have told him that."

"Why not? Even _I_ think that," Marty said, giving Doc a shit-eating grin. Doc purposefully ignored him.

"Great Scott, when are people going to stop talking about my sex appeal?" he muttered under his breath. "I suppose you could see the train, J. C. Just don't touch anything unless I tell you it's okay."

"Can I see it too?" Hank inquired. "My speciality is medicine, but I'm pretty good with mechanical things as well."

Doc hesitated a moment. Despite his gratefulness toward Hank, he was reluctant to let him near the train. Being his biggest fan meant he almost _certainly_ knew something about his time-travel theories. What if he guessed the true purpose of the flux capacitor? Could Hank be trusted to keep his mouth shut?

_But Hank would be a helpful addition, _he thought. _Being my biggest fan also means he'll have a bit of experience with the way I build things. God knows I would like a fellow scientist to help. Clara and Marty are wonderful companions, but they don't exactly think the way I do. Decisions, decisions. . . ._ "I could certainly use your expertise," he hedged. "But the same applies to you. I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Great!" Hank began wolfing down his eggs. "I'll be ready to go in just a minute."

"Do you want me to come along as well?" Scott asked. "To help with the damage I caused?"

"Great Scott, does everyone want to see this?"

"I think so," Jean said with a grin. "It's not every day a flying train arrives here."

"Well, not everyone can go."

"I can stay behind with Jules and Verne," Jennifer offered. "Tell anybody who's interested what I know. That technical stuff always confuses me, and I don't enjoy it like Marty does." Marty rolled his eyes.

"That's fine with me, if the boys are willing," Doc said, glancing at his kids.

"We want to play with Artie," Jules said, his brother nodding along. "His tongue is really cool."

"His tongue?"

"It's blue and forked and can pick up stuff."

Clara, Jennifer, and Kitty looked put out. "He's always doing gross stuff like that. I guess you gotta be a boy."

"Really? A prehensile tongue?" J. C. asked, looking quite interested.

"Okay, maybe not."

"If you can tell me what your optic beams do, you can come along," Doc decided for Scott.

Saturday, September 7th

8:27 A. M.

To Doc's surprise, the train looked all right, except for a huge notch in the smokestack and a hole blasted through the side. The flux capacitor was undamaged, and the train still looked structurally sound. Wondering what exactly was wrong, he reached out with his power, trying to bring everything on-line.

He groaned. At lot of the vital wires and machinery that allowed the train to function had been damaged or outright destroyed. The hover conversion was slightly damaged, but the train could still fly. "I take it you hit the underbelly first. Damn, damn. . . ."

"Is it really that bad?" Marty said, glad Jennifer wasn't here to see this.

"Oh, yes, it's bad. Scott did a very good job. The hover system is all right, but a lot of the internal circuitry was affected. In fact, a good part of it is gone. I'll have to make extensive repairs before we can even think about leaving. The feed lines are gone, the display circuitry is heavily damaged -- and I'm just going to have to have the trip log screen replaced."

Clara grimaced. Getting the darn thing installed had been horribly expensive. "I hope we can afford it."

"It's a necessary investment, Clara." Doc walked around the train. "As for structural damage, we'll have to replace the window and repair the hole. The gouge on the smokestack I don't care about."

"I'll help with that. What do you need to cover it with?" Scott asked, going pink again.

"Anything that effectively seals out the outside atmosphere. It would be dangerous to travel without shielding from these effects."

"I can attest to that, having walked through five rainy days to get here," J. C. agreed.

Hank looked at the smokestack. "Are you sure you don't want to do anything about that gouge? What if it collapses and crushes your --"

Hank's eyes went as big as dinner plates as he saw the flux capacitor. "Is that what I think it is?" he squeaked.

"What do you mean? Looks like those energy capacitors you built into the Blackbird," Scott said dismissively.

Doc nodded rapidly. "I use it to get bursts of speed if necessary." _Please, please let him pick up on the hint. I can't tell the entire school that we're time travelers. The less people who know, the better._

"What the heck is an energy capacitor?" J. C. asked. 

"It's a conduit for storing energy for long temporal periods and then releasing it in a short one," Doc said, too worried about Hank's reaction to realize she probably wouldn't understand.

"What the heck was that?"

"It's the way he talks sometimes," Marty soothed her. "He explained it to me once -- a capacitor thing is supposed to take up the energy you feed it, store it for a while, then let it all out at once. Doc uses it to speed up the train."

"Ooh. Yeah, you'd understand, wouldn't you? You guys won an award a while back."

Marty blinked a few times. "Huh? Oh, oh yeah." _Us?? Wait a minute, people seem to think I'm a musician. Why would I win an award with Doc?_

Hank went to the left and right, studying the flux capacitor. "Scott, I copied the energy capacitor design from Dr. Brown's _flux capacitor_. It was part of his discussion on ways to circumvent the time barrier. And this looks exactly how he described it." He looked at Doc with pleading eyes. "Please tell me it's true. Please tell me it's a time machine."

"And I'm from the Old West," Clara said, trying not to laugh as she said it. 

"And I'm really 19," Marty added.

"And I'm an internationally-recognized scientist," Doc laughed. "In my wildest--"

"IT IS TRUE!!"

Doc jumped, startled. Hank was grinning wildly. "I knew you could do it! I just knew you could! What year are you from?"

"Hank, I was being sarcastic," Doc snapped. 

"And that was your downfall. You _are_ an internationally-recognized scientist. You--"

Doc put his face in his hands, shaking his head. "Don't tell me, don't tell me. I can't know too much about my own future. Damn, damn DAMN!"

"Face it, Doc, one of us was going to slip up sometime," Marty sighed, trying to comfort his best friend. "Hell, I almost did just now."

"Sorry," J. C. blushed. "So you guys are time travelers?"

"And I'm really from the Old West," Clara admitted. "Emmett doesn't like to tell people about it."

"Why not? This is one heck of an achievement for the Doc!"

"It may be, but it's extremely dangerous! On Marty's first-ever time trip, he nearly erased himself from existence by preventing his parents from meeting. And the whole reason I met Clara back in the Old West was because somebody _stole_ my original time machine!"

"And turned our home town into someplace slightly worse than the black hole of Calcutta," Marty elaborated. "Not to mention I had to watch my best friend nearly _die_ at least three times."

Hank looked noticeably abashed. "I'm -- I'm sorry. I just thought it was incredible. Genius."

"Once you've had a few bad experiences with this thing, it doesn't seem the same way."

"So why keep it?" J. C. asked.

"Well, it's not all bad. Doc got a family, and I got a better version of my family. Before I went back in time, George McFly was a spineless, sniveling wimp who wouldn't have published a story if his life depended on it."

"Well, thank you for going back," Scott said. His brow wrinkled. "Jean -- she knows too."

"Knows? I took her back to 1987 with me for a few days to help her recover. That's also how she found out about me being a mutant."

"This is incredible. What are you doing here, though?"

Doc looked him in the eyes. "Shouldn't it be obvious? I was looking for a cure for my Legacy. I was terrified I was going to die. And after gaining a wife and children after 60-odd years, I wasn't about to give up and accept my fate."

"I'm glad you didn't. It would be a shame to live in a world without you."

"Hank's got a worse crush on you then J. C. does," Scott cracked, making both of them blush.

"This is the same guy who cried with Wolverine," Hank retorted.

"Oh my God, that's true?!" J. C. said, laughing.

"I thought I'd lost my girlfriend!" Scott snapped.

As the scene threatened to deteriorate into chaos, Doc suddenly coughed hard. All went silent, eyes fixed on the scientist. Clara and Marty went noticeably white.

Doc shook his head reassuringly. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I needed to clear my throat. I promise you. I doubt Hank's serum could have worn off _that_ quickly."

Everyone relaxed. "I suppose that's our kick in the pants," Hank said. "Once we're done here, I'll take you to the lab and tell you all I know."


	6. The Introduction of Evil

Chapter 5

Saturday, September 14th, 2002

New York, New York

3: 20 P. M.

His fingers glided easily over the keyboard as he spoke. "What progress have you been making, Dr. Lyons?"

The man in front of him shivered. "I hate to say it, Mr. Shaw, but very little. Mutational Immunodefiency Virus is very hard to beat."

"But you were the ones who created it, aren't you? Or have I employed new people?"

"Yes, we did create it, but it's gone through mutations. Field tests have proved that. Our initial lab-created Legacy had a cure ready. This form doesn't."

Shaw finished composing his e-mail. "When I hired you, I expected results. You have come through with Mutational Immunodefiency Virus, or more colloquially Legacy, but you appear to be failing on the cure. I am not pleased, Dr. Lyons."

"Surely you understand mutations," Dr. Steve Lyons pleaded. "That's what we need, a true expert in the field of mutations. It would make a world of difference."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Shaw smiled, his lips tight. "I know right where to get one."

Dr. Lyons went pale. "Mr. Shaw, the world will notice if another geneticist goes missing," he said carefully.

"The world won't care. And anyone who does can be paid off easily." Shaw frowned, his eyes going hard and sadistic. "I need this cure, Dr. Lyons. And you're going to give it to me."

Dr. Lyons knew better than to drag out the argument. "Yes, Mr. Shaw," he said stiffly, and turned to leave.

"Oh, Dr. Lyons?" The doctor hesitated, turning his head back. "Go against my decisions again, and I may just send you to Selene."

Dr. Lyons managed a nod, then beat it out of there. Shaw sighed, logging out. "The working class."

"Having trouble controlling the ants?"

Shaw turned in his chair, a more natural smile gracing his lips. In the side door of the room lounged a gorgeous figure in black. "Just that damned Dr. Steven Lyons again," he told her. "The usual."

"Oh. Am I about to have some fun, Sebastian?"

'I won't stop you if you're in the mood." They shared a brief kiss. "Have you been studying those demoniac manuals we found in Africa?"

The woman nodded, a snake-like grin slithering onto her lips. "You know how I get when I read them."

"I do indeed, my darling."

Suddenly, the door burst open again, carrying with it an enraged Dr. Lyons. Shaw jumped to his feet. "What is the meaning of this?!"

"I'm sick of this! You kidnaped me from my wife and family and set me to work on this -- this fatal disease just so you can show a profit on the cure! I won't have it! I've compromised myself for too long!" With a banshee shriek, he launched himself at Shaw.

Scientist and employer met. Dr. Lyons thudded into Shaw like he had hit a wall. Baffled, he attempted to punch the man, but it had the same affect as hitting a mattress. The laws of physics were turned inside out.

Shaw chuckled momentarily at the geneticist's predicament. "Dr. Lyons. I never did inform you of my mutant power, did I?" He lifted the scientist by the neck. "I can absorb kinetic energy, and convert it into raw power for myself." He flung Dr. Lyons across the room.

Dr. Lyons landed with a thunk against the far wall. He slumped to the ground, then unsteadily got to his feet. "You're a monster," he growled.

"Oh, really?" Shaw's mouth indicated he was amused, but his eyes said that he was furious. "Selene, my dearest. . . ."

Selene's eyes brightened. She walked over to Dr. Lyons, who readied himself for a fight. She stopped a few feet from him and closed her eyes, placing her fingers on her temples.

Minutes later, Lyons was a crying, trembling heap on the floor. Shaw showed no emotion as he pressed a buzzer on his desk.

Two people marched in, in full costume. Their faces were masked in a most unusual way. All distinguishing features were covered by flesh-colored cloth. Three slits allowed the masked ones to see and breathe. Their bodies were similarly attired, in identical dark blue and red. It was hard to tell one of them was female.

Shaw pointed to Dr. Lyons. Take him down to the basement until he recovers. Then take him back to the lab and tell him if he doesn't behave, I'll let Selene have him for an entire day."

The people nodded and dragged Lyons out of the room. Selene shuddered with pleasure. "What a rush," she purred. "Thank you."

"Even leading members of the Hellfire Club should be allowed their pleasures," Shaw smiled. "Which reminds me -- I believe Mr. Fletcher Smith wanted to make another appointment with you."

"Again? That man's becoming used to it. I'll have to alter my style." Selene frowned, just a little. "I don't really like catering to their needs. It cheapens the sensation. But, if it brings me pleasure. . . ." She shrugged.

Shaw sat back down. "Our dear Dr. Lyons will have one thing to be grateful for when he comes to. He'll be getting his asked-for help."

"Really?"

Shaw frowned at his wife. "Selene, much as I hate giving him what he wants, we need this cure. It will make us billions. And with it solely in our possession, we could also build a web of powerful allies. I also don't want to risk us getting infected. Practical considerations must come first."

Selene shrugged again. "Well, who is it?"

"Dr. Hank McCoy. He's a leader in the field of genetics."

"He won't come willingly," Selene warned. "His sympathies lie with the X-Men."

"We'll give him a chance to come on his own. He may care more about curing Legacy than the X-Men. If he refuses, we'll take him by force."

"I'd prepare for force. His loyalties appear quite strong."

"That's what our members are for," Shaw reminded her, picking up the phone.

Saturday, September 14th, 2002

Graymalkin Lane, Westchester County, New York

3: 52 P. M.

Doc stared in frustration at the computer screen. "Damn it! Work!"

Marty had to cover his grin. The subject at hand was deadly serious. It wouldn't do to start laughing at Doc's tirade. "Still no luck?"

"None. None." Doc dropped his hands in defeat. "I thought -- Hank's serum coupled with these codes of DNA --" He sighed, looking at the simulation play itself out. "But nothing."

Hank brought the data screen back up. "I hate to say it, but I was pretty sure this would happen. Legacy affects different mutants different ways. What may work for one may not work for another. Using mutant DNA, even from people like Wolverine, probably won't work."

"It was just a thought, Hank. Biology's not my speciality, after all."

"I know, and it was worth it to give it a shot. We can't afford to leave any stones unturned."

J. C. appeared, holding a cell phone. "Yo, Dr. McCoy, phone call for you. Sounds important."

Hank took the phone. "Hello, Dr. Hank McCoy." He blinked a few times. "_Who's_ calling? Okay. . .Yes, I'll talk to him, I guess."

Marty, Doc, and J. C. exchanged puzzled looks. Who was it?

"Yes?" Hank listened for a minute. Then his face went red. "Shaw, under no circumstances will I sell out. Offer me all the money you want! _Not interested._ Good _DAY_, sir." He flipped the cellular closed and made a motion like he wanted to slam it down.

"Jesus, who the heck was it?" J. C. asked.

"Sebastian Shaw."

"The wealthy industrialist? The guy who's companies have built practically everything on the planet?"

"Yes, _that_ Shaw. Owner of the Hellfire Club, CEO and owner of Shaw Industries."

"That doesn't explain much for me," Marty said, looking lost. "Who the heck is he?"

"In 1987, I read about a certain Sebastian Shaw who was setting up his own business," Doc offered. "This Shaw is quite possibly his future self."

"I'd bet money on it. By now Shaw Industries has grown into an insanely powerful organization. If it can be built, he will build it. He's a multi-millionaire on par with Bill Gates."

J. C. whistled. "Whoa. That's rich."

"Indeed. The Hellfire Club is his personal club for the rich and famous. Entrance is by invitation only, and their parties are the stuff of legends. Many millionaires would gladly give up their wealth for a chance to get in."

"Sounds like your average snot."

"Far from it. For one thing, both Shaw and his wife, Selene, are mutants. They've never gone public with this news, of course, but we know. Shaw once entertained Professor Xavier."

"That just goes to show how rich Professor X is," Marty said, highly impressed.

"Do you have any information on his powers?" Doc asked, curious. "I'm assuming he'd be willing to help us, and we could try just one more time with the mutant DNA. . . ."

"He can absorb kinetic energy and convert it into power for himself. Selene is an illusionist, we don't know her speciality. But I don't want their help, except as the absolute _last_ possible resort."

"Why not?"

"Shaw's not known for being -- ethical. One or two of our contacts who have worked for him or been close to him report violent personality changes. He can be charming or sadistic, it all depends on his mood. One even reported catching him in a temper tantrum."

J. C. laughed. "He sounds like a big baby!"

"A very dangerous baby. He's offered to build the government machines that can identify and track mutants. He's also a generous public supporter of the Purifiers."

J. C. went stiff. "A race traitor, huh? I wonder what would happen if I called up the Purifiers and told them what their hero really was? After all, I know one personally."

"It's not worth it, J. C.," Marty said, understanding how she felt. "He wouldn't believe ya. He'd say you were making it up."

"In fact, much as I hate to say it, he probably wouldn't take the call," Doc added.

The teen relaxed again, sighing. "You're right. I've put that behind me. Forget him."

"So you can see why I don't trust Shaw's motives," Hank continued, steering the conversation back on topic. "Yes, he's trying to cure Legacy. But for what purpose? Market it, and he'd make millions. Be the only producer, and he could build an army of desperate mutants. I won't work for him."

"Neither will I, Hank. Why don't you e-mail Moira, and see how she's doing?"

"Actually, I've got a better idea," J. C. said. "Why not e-mail the Doc Brown of this year? I'm sure he'd be ecstatic to help. It's his life he's saving."

"I would, if not for two things," Doc said. "One -- it is inadvisable to have contact with your older self. Especially if he came here and I saw him face-to-face. At best, we'd faint because we'd recognize each other. At worst, we'd create a life-ending paradox with our actions."

"So, just e-mail him. He's you, he'd know not to look at ya."

"That's where Two comes in." Doc swallowed, lowering his voice and dropping his eyes. "I don't know if he's alive."

J. C. lowered her eyes too. "Oh, yeah."

"Do you need a break?" Hank asked. "We've been down here for about seven hours."

"Yes, I think I do. I need to see my family."

"I want to find Jennifer," Marty nodded, getting up. "What about you, J. C.?"

"I might as well stay down here. If Hank'll let me."

"Sure, no problem."

Doc headed for the hallway. "I'll be back in five," he said.

"Oh, hell, you need longer than that. You're working on your time machine as well. I want you to take at least 30. Now go on, shoo!"

"Yes, sir," Doc kidded, making his escape with Marty. J. C. took a quick admiring glance as he left.

"J. C., you'll have to be more discreet than _that,_" Hank informed her. "Everyone in the school knows you were drooling over Kurt yesterday. Do you need them talking about you and Dr. Brown as well?"

"I don't care. They're both really cute." She smiled at the stairs. "Absolutely stunning eyes. . . ."

Hank rolled his eyes, then got serious again as he looked at the computer. "I wonder. . . . What happens if he _doesn't _survive? Will I still be influenced by him?"

"That's a pickle. You'd have to ask Doc himself about that. Time travel's way too confusing for me."

Saturday, September 14th, 2002

New York, New York

4: 10 P. M.

Shaw looked at a smug Selene. "You were right, my dear," he sighed. "His damn morals got in the way."

"They always do, unfortunately." Selene poured herself into Shaw's lap. "Do we still take him by force?"

"It would be best. With him on our team, we may be able to make some pretty important breakthroughs." He frowned. "And if one of my staff was willing to attack me. . . ."

Selene understood very well what Shaw meant. "I'll have the security on our private rooms expanded."

"Thank you. I'll start making plans for our eventual raid on Xavier's manor. We don't want to make the same silly mistakes Stryker did." He dialed the phone. "Hello? Miss Frieda Stamos? It's Sebastian Shaw, Frieda. I have reason to believe we'll need you in the near future. I'll be hosting a party in a few days. . . ."


	7. Takin Over Again

Chapter 6

Wednesday, September 18th, 2002

Graymalkin Lane, Westchester County, New York

2: 22 P. M.

Doc activated the wires with a spark of electricity. "This will do. I'll definitely have to make more thorough repairs later, but this will do for a single time trip."

"I hope you're right, Doc," Jennifer murmured, looking anxiously at the tangled web. "I don't want to end up in 1573 or something. Or in a parallel universe."

"Don't worry about the parallel universe. If they do exist, I highly doubt we can get to them. And I really do think we'll be able to get home to 1987 in this." He slithered out from under the train. "I wouldn't do anything to intentionally put you in danger."

"I know you wouldn't, Doc. I'll try not to worry so much." She took a peek down at the wires again. "Is that it for the train, or do you need to do more?"

"Well, that's it for the electrical parts at any rate. I still need to patch the hole in the side and replace the window. That shouldn't take long. We'll be ready to go home in a few days, tops." Doc tried not to look depressed at this statement.

Jennifer patted Doc's arm. "I'm sorry that the Legacy thing didn't work out."

"I was so hoping I could help," Doc sighed. "Even without the vast medical knowledge Hank has, I was practically positive I could help. . . ." He stared vacantly at the train for a few moments. "After doing the repairs at home, I should make up an updated will."

"Doc, don't talk like that," Jennifer pleaded.

"Why not? Without a cure, there's a 100% probability that I'll die soon. That serum can only work for so long. I have to be prepared."

Jennifer looked down. "Marty's going to be so upset," she said, voice low. "He was so depressed before your letter showed up in 1985 -- I don't know how he's going to take this."

"I'll talk with him once we're home, I promise."

Clara came out just then, looking both excited and worried about something. "Emmett, we may have a problem. Professor Xavier has located Pyro."

"His former student? Where the heck is he?"

"The jungles of South America. He's not with Magneto, so Xavier wants to talk to him. He thinks he might be able to find out at least _why_ he switched sides. I think an ulterior motive is to warn the people living nearby."

"Sounds like official X-Men business to me. We need not worry."

"Emmett – Hank's going with him."

Doc scrambled to his feet in shock. "Hank?! Doesn't he realize how important it is that Hank stays here? We've still got a few days to work!"

"He told me Hank _volunteered_!"

"But why -- how -- I'm going to have a talk with him." Looking very pissed, Doc jogged into the school. "Hank? Where are you?!"

Hank was in his quarters, packing an overnight bag. Doc gave him a not-so-gentle zap of electricity. "OW!"

"What the hell are you doing, Hank McCoy?" Doc demanded. "Clara said you volunteered to leave?!"

"Listen, I know you're mad--"

"You're damn right I'm mad!"

"-- but I need this. Being cooped up in that laboratory day and night is getting to be too much! How can I find a cure if I can't think straight?"

"How can I find one if my Ph. D. is in quantum physics?! I need you!"

"I'll still be communicating with you by e-mail! And Moira came up with something. I left you the message to work on. Don't worry, it's all spelt out very clearly."

Doc glared at him. "What happens if I get sick again, Hank? What happens?"

"Jean gives you another shot, that's what happens. And if you don't respond to that one, she'll use her telekinesis to try and stop the seizures."

"That won't work. Not with my power. I could seriously hurt her. If I don't respond to a second injection, I'm dead. I'M DEAD!" Doc seethed for a minute more, then his face dropped into frightened sadness. "Don't leave me here, Hank. I don't want to die."

Hank didn't know what to say. "Listen, Dr. Brown, it won't be for that long. The BlackBird can travel at supersonic speeds. We should be back within a day or so. I'm sure you can get by in that short a period. You're not helpless."

"Sometimes I feel like I am," Doc said, starting to blush. "You're right. If you really need the break, you should take it. I didn't mean to get so emotional."

"Hell, I understand. I'd probably panic too if I had Legacy. I promise, I'll be back as soon as I can, and I'll send you e-mail. Especially if I get any more ideas."

"Okay. And I'll get to work on what Moira sent."

Wednesday, September 18th, 2002

New York, New York

2: 27 P. M.

Inside the deepest reaches of the Shaw family estate, Selene sat before a mystical scrying device. Her eyes were closed as she chanted the words of a spell. Occasionally she would lift her hands in some arcane gesture. Sebastian was letting her perform this magic in hopes of gaining some information on the X-Men. She had successfully worked minor spells before, so it was worth a shot.

Selene finally felt ready. She opened her eyes and gazed into the black mirror before her. Slowly, foggily, an image appeared upon it. The image of Professor X leaving the mansion in the BlackBird jet. Another figure was with him, but the image was too fuzzy for her to tell who it was. All she could see was his black X-Man uniform. They flew off into the distance, leaving the mansion open -- and vulnerable.

She smiled. The spell had been calculated to show the near future of a specific location. Professor X was probably leaving either today, tomorrow, or Friday. Knowing her husband would want something more concrete, she modified the spell a bit. A calendar date swam into being on the mirror -- September 19th.

Selene nodded and dispersed the magic. The black mirror became nothing more than smooth dark rock. She got up and headed for Sebastian's personal library. "Sebastian. . . ."

Sebastian was studying a report on the invasion of Xavier's School for Gifted Children by Stryker when his wife waltzed in. "Any luck, my dear?"

"Oh, much luck. Professor X will be leaving the mansion tomorrow. Along with a companion. I suggest we strike immediately."

Sebastian clapped his hands. "Excellent. This also means one less X-Man to deal with. Wonderful work, darling, wonderful. I'll alert the drones."

Thursday, September 19th, 2002

Graymalkin, Westchester County, New York

5: 19 P. M.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?"

Doc rolled his eyes at the rhyme. "I'm just making absolutely sure what I've rigged up can withstand the trauma of time travel."

"Are you going to make a time trip? Can I come?" J. C. asked excitedly.

"I would like to, but with the limitations placed on me, I don't dare."

"He's worried something will go wrong and we'll be thrown randomly through time," Marty added, popping up from inside the train.

"And that, coupled with my disability--"

"Hey, I thought Hank's serum _fixed_ that."

"Temporarily. We haven't been able to find a permanent cure. Once it wears off. . . ." Doc allowed his voice to trail off ominously.

Both J. C. and Marty went pale. "Don't say that, Doc. Please don't say that."

"It's the truth, guys. We're going to have to learn to live with it. I got many great years with my family and friends. I should be grateful." Doc put down his tools, a look of intense sadness appearing on his face. "But I'm not. I want more. None of that time seems even remotely long enough."

J. C. gave him a hug. "Be grateful you _have_ a family," she told him. "Be grateful they love you."

"Yeah, Doc, we all care about you. We want more time too."

Doc shivered in fear. "I don't want to die. The scientific part of me tells me I shouldn't be afraid, but I am. It's a natural process, but I'm terrified of it. Especially -- especially after that seizure. If that's how I'm going to go, I'd end it right now."

"Doc, please." Marty's lip began to quiver.

"Hell, do you think anybody _wants_ to die? I'm a mutant, don't you think _I'm_ worried about Legacy?"

"I know, I know. But it's frustrating to know you had a chance at _stopping_ what's killing you." He sighed deeply. "I just couldn't help like I thought I did. . . ."

"You did the best you could. We know that." Marty leaned out the open window, looking at the sky. "We'll figure something out."

Thursday, September 19th

5:23 P. M.

"I'll get it!" Bobby yelled as the doorbell rang. He abandoned his seat in front of the TV and opened the door. Standing there was a smirking man in an old-fashioned business suit. "Uh, hi. Can I help you?"

"Is Professor Xavier in?"

"No, he's not."

The smirk changed to a satisfied grin. "Good."

Just like that, uniformed goons appeared. Bobby had visions of Styrker's invasion of the school. _Oh, no, not this time!_ he thought angrily, flinging up a hand as the sirens started. _I'll freeze 'em to the spot before they even get through the door!_

But, shockingly enough, his power didn't come. He tried again. Nothing. His temperature stayed a toasty 98.1, nowhere near good for making ice. Baffled, he settled for slugging the first man that came in.

Another goon yanked out a gun and pointed it straight at him. Bobby desperately tried to use his mutation. "The hell?!" he cried.

This attracted more kids, all who looked at the forces in horror. Kitty attempted to get help, but was foiled when she ran _into_ the wall as opposed to through it. Marie and Jaime grabbed her and started trying to swat down the army.

Jean, alerted by the sirens, ran to help them. She gasped when she saw the kids being forced back into the body of the school. "Leave them alone!" she roared, wondering why they weren't automatically flying through the air.

"Hello, Dr. Grey," the suited man said politely, still grinning.

Jean glared at him. "Call your goons off, Shaw, or I'll--"

"Oh, you won't be doing anything," Shaw interrupted coolly. "One of my associates has already taken care of that."

"Associates?" Jean attempted to read Shaw's mind, but found herself blocked. In fact, she couldn't hear _anyone's_ thoughts, other than her own. She began to feel somewhat claustrophobic. "We've got security measures in place that can knock down any human army."

"Really? Well, too bad my associate isn't human. I haven't introduced her, have I? Frieda!"

A woman appeared, with thick curls of bleached blond hair and ice-blue eyes. She was clad from head to foot in the purest black fabric, and wore a matching black belt with a humming box attached. Jean got a chill. This was Frieda Stamos.

The Black Hole.

5:25 P.M.

Doc, J. C., and Marty watched in amazement as more and more people swarmed into the mansion. They had seen the army just minutes before the trouble began and hidden in the invisible train. "What the hell is going on? Why aren't they fighting back?" J. C. demanded.

"Scott blasted us out of the sky! He shouldn't have any trouble with these guys," Marty agreed. "And after what they told us about Stryker. . . ."

Doc frowned, deeply concerned. "This obviously took them completely by surprise. But you're right, _something_ should be happening. They should be fighting back. The very lack of that indicates a powerful enemy. Someone who is capable of incapacitating the X-Men."

"_All _of them?" Marty said incredulously.

"It's possible. Large amounts of knock-out spray gas, maybe a kind of mutant dampener -- not easy, but possible."

"Doc, my friends are in there!" J. C. cried. "Marie, Bobby, Kitty, Jubilee -- they wouldn't let this happen! And I wouldn't let it happen to them!"

Marty had an even worse thought. "Clara's in there, Doc! _Jennifer's_ in there!"

"I know that!" Doc almost yelled. He forced himself to lower his voice. "I'm scared too. I know this shouldn't be happening, I know the X-Men wouldn't let themselves be walked over. But it appears that whoever this is found the absolutely perfect moment and mode to take over. Professor X isn't here to help, and neither is Hank."

"Do we have any way of contacting Professor X?"

"Not out here, and I'm sure they'll have cut communication inside."

J. C. closed her eyes, and a few imaginary mice appeared to play on the train floor. "Well, I can still use my power."

Doc flicked the lights on and off. "So can I. And there's absolutely no motion in our direction. They must have no idea we're here."

"Good, we can fly off and see if we can get help," Marty said hopefully.

"Have you forgotten what landed us here in the first place, Marty? They'll notice the noise for sure. And if they fire upon us and hit the train's underbelly again, we could be in serious shit."

"But we can't just sit here and do _nothing_!" J. C. protested. "We've got to help!"

"Your family's in there, and so's my girlfriend," Marty agreed, getting testy. "I'm not leaving them helpless. We're getting help."

Doc gazed back at the mansion. "They must have no idea we're here," he repeated slowly. "That means they wouldn't be ready to deal with us."

Marty and J. C. stopped and stared. "You mean--" J. C. said finally.

"Yes. We're going in."


	8. The Obligatory Tannen

Chapter 7

Thursday, September 19th

5:42 P. M.

It had been almost too easy to take over once Frieda had entered. Shaw had had his scientists design a special amplifying device for her mutant-negating powers. Turned up full blast, she had been able to negate the powers of every mutant in the building. Yes, there were other, more mundane security measures to disable -- trick floors and the like -- but they had more than enough Hellfire Club members to do that. After a little while of strain on Frieda, all the occupants were in custody.

Now they were all in the furthest left, highest hallway. Frieda had turned her box down to fully black out mutant powers in the hallway itself and to cripple them for another couple of yards around. The children were packed into the rooms along the hall, many crying and yelling. Tied and lined up along the hall itself were some rather pissed-off X-Men, and a group of non-mutants who had inexplicably been in the building.

Shaw glided in and smiled snakily at them. "Well. Is this all of you?"

"Yes," Scott snapped, frustrated to the extreme. Wolverine, to his left, actually growled at the businessman.

"I'm afraid you're lying, Mr. Summers. Where is Hank McCoy, better known as the Beast?"

"He's gone."

"With Professor X," Jean blurted, not exactly thinking clearly.

Shaw stared at them a moment. Then he rounded on Selene, eyes fiery. "Don't give me that look," she spat. "I didn't know either. Those spells don't give the clearest views."

Shaw cracked his knuckles, annoyed but keeping cool. "Well, then. I guess we're going to have to wait." He walked up to the family of non-mutants. "What were _you_ doing here?"

Clara held up her head, eyes cold. "My husband died of Legacy. I wanted to make sure my children were safe. Does that meet with your approval?"

"Don't get flippant with me, woman, or the children will suffer." He looked back at the X-Men. "So there are no other mutants."

"None," Ororo stated flatly.

Shaw allowed himself a smile. "I would recommend getting another security system. You're not very well organized, aren't you?" Ororo said nothing. Shaw turned his back.

And missed the ghost of a smile that played around Ororo's lips.

5:47 P.M.

Anyone looking at the grounds, like a couple of Hellfire members were now doing, would find much to interest them in turns of scenery. The yard was kept in pristine condition, as well as the private bit of woodland Xavier kept on his property. Well-manicured bushes lined the pond, the pool, the basketball court. There were a few odd bushes out, ones that had grown wild, but they were few and far between.

One of these messier bushes had grown between two trees. A Hellfire member gave it a passing glance, then went around the back. The bush followed, then froze again as a new person appeared. "Yo, Shanya? Was that bush always there?"

"Oh, hell, Bill, you worry too much. Come on around, we're supposed to check for more traps before going inside."

"I _hate_ traps," Bill muttered, following Shanya. "I wanna kick some X-Men butt."

The bush shivered, then moved again, sneaking closer to the school. Suddenly there was a thud and a loud "Oof!"

Luckily, by that point Bill and Shanya had moved on. The bush vanished, to be replaced by Doc, J. C., and a fallen Marty. "You gotta be careful, Marty, you almost pulled me down," J. C. said.

"Sorry, but I tripped on something. You nearly gave us away by opening your eyes at that X-Men comment." Marty winced a little as he got back up. "I didn't expect the ground to be that hard. I mean, I fell on a bunch of moss."

Doc lifted an eyebrow. "Really." He felt the surface on which Marty had fallen. It was unusually hard, even with the covering of moss and leaves. He stripped some of it away to reveal a thick wooden slab.

J. C. cocked her head. "Now what's that doing here?"

Doc smiled. "I'd be willing to bet it's a trap door. Our job of penetrating our enemy's defenses and entering the school just got easier." He used a bit of electricity to burn off a little more moss, then lifted it. Sure enough, underneath was a tunnel. "Yes!"

Marty couldn't help but grin smugly at J. C.. She stuck her tongue out at him and dropped inside. Marty followed, then Doc.

As the trap door closed above them, the tunnel became pitch black. Marty blinked and felt the wall. "You think they got any lights down here?"

Doc felt the wall too. "Yes, but I don't want to alert them to our presence down here." He activated his power and created a crackling ball of current to light their way. "Will this do?" he asked, his face spooky in the dim illumination.

"Yeah." They started walking. "So what's our plan of attack?"

"Shock and Awe," Doc chuckled. "Get whoever's captured the X-Men out of the way by scaring them out of their wits. Then we free the X-Men and let them do some fighting."

"That sounds awfully dangerous."

"I know. The key to the plan is speed. We can't waste time fighting enemies who are all too willing to fight back. Get in, get out, move on."

Suddenly, the stench of brimstone hit them full force. "Nightcrawler!"

"_Guten tag_," Kurt said, barely visible in the dim light. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who escaped."

"Kurt, what happened?" Marty asked urgently.

"Sebastian Shaw. He took us completely by surprise. We fought back, but there were too many of them."

"Hellfire Club members," J. C. nodded. "Why didn't you use your powers? Dr. Grey could have knocked half of them out without even trying."

"We couldn't. Shaw brought the Black Hole."

"Oh, fck," J.C. muttered.

"Who's the Black Hole?" Doc asked.

"Her name's Frieda Stamos. Her mutant power negates the powers of other mutants. She's worked with both Shaw and Magneto in the past."

"And they caught all of the other X-Men?" Kurt nodded. "Why didn't they get you? You wouldn't be able to teleport."

"I was able to escape into an air duct for a little while. Thanks to the darkness. . . ." Kurt indicated his faded form.

"What about Jennifer and Clara and Jules and Verne?" Marty whispered.

Kurt nodded sadly. "_Ja_. They got them as well. But they put up a good fight, from what I heard in the ducts. I think Clara was kicking one of them."

Doc managed a smile. "That's my girl." He became very serious again. "Kurt, we want to help. Can you get us into the school unnoticed?"

"I think so. I can teleport again, so we won't have to risk running into anyone at the other end of this. What do you want to do?"

"Isn't it obvious? Shaw wants our work on the Legacy Virus. We have to stop him from getting it, as well as free the X-Men. Hank told me what he's like. I don't want our work -- or my wife -- in his hands."

Kurt understood perfectly. "I'm worried too. Of what he might do to Storm especially," he added, blushing faintly.

"We won't let anything happen to her, 'Crawler," J. C. promised. "Or any of our other friends either." She held out her arms. "Beam me up, Scotty."

_Meanwhile, in the corridor_

Scott made a decision. As long as he was in this unenviable position, he would use it for his benefit. "Hey, Frieda."

Frieda gave him a funny look. "Yeah?"

"Could you take off my glasses?"

"What? What on earth for?"

"I've been wondering what color my eyes are for the longest time. Now that my powers are gone, I've got the chance to find out." Frieda regarded him suspiciously. "You've got me tied with some sort of super-string and my mutant powers are negated. What can I do to you?"

Frieda considered that a minute. Then she shrugged and pulled them off. "Eh. They're blue."

Scott blinked a few times. Without the red filter, everything looked very strange. He glanced at Jean, who smiled at him. "They are blue. Very pale blue."

Wolverine took a look too. "They look kinda sissy to me."

"Just wait until I get my powers back, wise-ass."

_the First Floor elevator_

5:51 P.M.

Marty and Kurt appeared with a final bamf. Kurt looked very worn by now. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "Ever since I got out of range of Frieda's power, I've been teleporting a lot."

"We'll rest here for a minute then. Since we're on the subject, how far do her powers extend?"

"I don't know. At first, I couldn't teleport no matter where I was. Then I found a place on the third floor where I could, with difficulty. As more time passed, I could go around almost normally."

"Well, whatever her range is, she's sure to be with the X-Men. Which makes our rescue mission all the more difficult. We might have to lure her out of there before we make our move."

"Which is easier said than done," Marty agreed.

Suddenly, the group heard a voice outside their little chamber. "Hey, do you hear voices?"

"That sounds like that Bill guy earlier," J. C. whispered, rolling her eyes.

"From where? Inside your head?"

"Ha ha. From in there, butt-head."

Marty and Doc stared at each other. Butt-head? Could it possibly be?

"Oh, Jesus, nobody can be in there. We've got the place sealed off until Beast comes back."

"I still hear voices," Bill Butt-head complained.

"So go see a shrink when this is all over. Shaw needs us now."

"Shaw, Shaw, everything is about Shaw. What's there for Tannen, huh?"

"Oh, perfect," Marty groaned as softly as possible. "Another Tannen."

Doc, however, was smiling. "I know. The perfect target on which to start our campaign." He placed one hand against the elevator wall and closed his eyes.

_Outside the elevator_

This was _not_ the glamour assignment Bill Tannen had hoped for.

When he had married that rich broad from Hong Kong and gotten into the Hellfire Club, he had imagined a life of hedonistic pleasure punctuated by moments of extreme excitement and danger -- a James Bond-like existence. The hedonistic pleasure part was working out great. It was the moments of excitement he was having problems with.

He sighed. The truth of the matter was, being a Hellfire Club member meant doing all the grunt work for Sebastian Shaw. Stuff like this takeover only came around once in a lifetime. And even then, he was stuck with inspecting the mansion for traps, as opposed to beating up a few mutants.

His teammate smirked at him. He couldn't see the smirk because of her mask, but he could tell it was there. Just his luck to be pared with somebody else with ties to Hill Valley. Shayna Needles was an asshole on par with his father Biff. He couldn't believe Shaw had decided to put them together. If he hadn't been so terrified of Selene --

"Still hearing voices, honey?"

Bill glared at her. "Listen, you, if we get in trouble because--"

All the lights in the hall abruptly went out. Bill and Shayna snapped to attention, semiautomatics at the ready. Finally, something exciting was happening! "All right, who's there?" Shayna yelled in her most fearsome voice. "State your name and mutational status."

No one replied, but there came from behind them a soft crackling. Bill turned to see little flickers of electricity moving along the cracks of the elevator doors. "Shayna. Check it out."

Shayna turned. She frowned underneath her mask. "Maybe it's just an electrical fault."

"Or maybe the elevator's about to explode," Bill said, backing up a few steps. A shudder of excitement went through him. An exploding elevator wasn't as good as punching out a mutant, but it would be pretty damn exciting all the same.

Then, with no warning, the doors of the elevator were flung open. Bill's jaw dropped as he saw the figure inside, surrounded by crackling electricity. _What the hell?! It -- it's _DR. BROWN!

Shayna recognized him too. "Holy shit, how did you get here?!"

Dr. Brown just glared at them, his eyes brightly aglow with millions of volts of current. He extended his hands and gathered the current around them into bright sparkling balls. Then it shot out of his open palms, hitting them square in the chest. Bill experienced a momentary blackout as both his heart and brain were shocked by the blast. He stumbled backwards, and saw Shayna do the same.

Dr. Brown advanced on them. The elevator went dark, and the light above him suddenly lit. Shayna tried to lift her gun, but another bolt of mini-lightning prevented her from touching it. "Get out," he growled in the most menacing voice they had ever heard.

Bill was only too glad to. _To hell with Shaw and his Hellfire Club!_ He scrambled to his feet and ran for his life. After one last, weak attempt to shoot Dr. Brown, Shayna followed, screaming.

Doc felt very satisfied. Not only had he provided a perfect example of what they should do when faced with Shaw's goons, it had given him some personal pleasure to get his own back against a Tannen and a Needles. "Come on, guys," he said, looking back.

To his surprise, the others were pressed back against the elevator wall, gaping at him. "Doc, you're good," Marty said, eyes wide. "You freaked _me_ out."

"I apologize, but we have to get moving right away. Unless we get to Hank's lab immediately, there's a good chance we won't get there at all. Those two will likely alert others to our presence. Kurt, you take the lead -- your teleportation abilities will keep you out of trouble. J. C., Marty, you stay behind me."

"Can do." Marty tried not to let on how truly nervous he was. Being the only non-mutant in the group, he didn't feel very safe. If he got separated from his friends, that could most likely be the end of him.

J. C. seemed to sense it anyway. "I bet you can take care of yourself. In the meantime, we'll take care of you." Doc and Kurt nodded as well, and Marty was slightly reassured. They started jogging down the corridor.

_Second Floor, Shaw's temporary office (Prof. X's study)_

6: 08 P. M.

Shaw was absolutely thunderstruck to hear that two of his guards had deserted. "Goddamn it! We haven't been harsh enough on them," he raged. "We must rule by fear! Why did they leave, knowing they were betraying the fundamental principles of the Hellfire Club?"

"They said some sort of electricity man attacked them," said the Hellfire member who had apprehended the feeling guards. He hesitated a moment before adding, "Sounds like another mutant to me, sir."

Shaw and Selene looked at each other. In the thrill of victory, neither of them had bothered to wonder if the X-Men were lying. Shaw roared and pounded the desk. "Search everywhere! I want this mutant caught! _DEAD OR ALIVE_!"

The Hellfire member raced to obey, not wanting to become a target for Shaw's rage. Selene snarled to herself, then had a thought. "Sebastian, instead of entrusting that mission to those dunderheads, why don't we look for that rogue ourselves? Could be fun."

"I'm too keyed up," Shaw said. "You can go if you wish." He fell into a chair and sulked. Selene slithered out the door.

_First Floor_

6: 13 P. M.

As they rounded a corner, someone shouted "Hey! I bet that's the electricity guy! And he's got company!"

"Looks like our cover's blown, Doc," Marty commented. "Do we run now?"

"Yes we do." They took off, pursued by a small cadre of Hellfire members. "Stand or be shot!" one yelled.

Kurt did a quick teleport back and kicked the speaker. He flew into a friend, but the others raged forward, determined to get their hands on him. Kurt teleported to the back and did a quick climb up the wall.

J. C. grabbed Doc's hand. "Hang on," she warned him, closing her eyes tight. Just like that, the hallway was transformed to the rainy streets of London. Their pursuers hesitated, baffled.

Unfortunately, so did Kurt. "_Was ist_?"

Two of the Hellfire members saw their chance and fired. Kurt teleported to the group, and they ran down a side hall and into a room. J. C. opened her eyes, dispelling the illusion. "You okay, Kurt?"

"Ja, sorry," he said.

"We gotta get moving, they'll be after us soon," Marty said anxiously. "Come on."

"You guys go ahead," J. C. said. "I'll stay here and keep these guys off your backs."

Doc stared at her. "Absolutely not. You'll get hurt."

"I can take care of myself. I got you to the mansion, didn't I? I can keep 'em busy. Right now, your Legacy work is what matters."

Doc looked at her. Then, abruptly, he pulled her into an embrace. "Be careful."

"I will." She looked at him. "I love you?"

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Come back in one piece."

J. C. nodded, and became all business again. "Go on, before they catch us all here."

Reluctantly, the three left. J. C. crouched in a corner of the room and started concentrating, letting her mind flip through various locales. In the hallways, the Hellfire members ran about in confusion as they were transported from Ancient Egypt to Modern Rome and all sorts of places in between.

Finally, out of sheer luck, one stumbled into the room and saw her. He correctly deduced she was the cause of their problems and pulled out his gun. With an animal yell, he ran for her.

J. C. jumped, her eyes snapping open. For one minute, she was absolutely terrified. Then she realized that it was the gun's butt, and not its barrel, that was facing her. _Oh, how amusing,_ she thought as the Hellfire member swung.

_He's going to knock me out._


	9. Mutant Number Two

Chapter 8

_Second Floor Corridor_

6:28 P. M.

"Okay, where the hell are we?"

"I think we're on the second floor now. . . ."

"_Ja_, we climbed stairs. I think this might be the dormitories. . . ."

Marty kicked the wall in frustration. "Damn! We should have gotten a map or something before trying this rescue mission. At the rate we're going, we're going to need rescuing ourselves."

"Ye of little faith," Doc said, frowning. "It's only been 15 minutes and 12 seconds since we left J. C."

"Yeah, but a lot can happen in 15 minutes. What if he's done something to the girls, Doc?"

Doc felt his stomach flip-flop. "They'll be fine," he said, reassuring himself as much as Marty. "They can take care of themselves. Besides, why would Shaw want to do anything to them? They're not mutants."

"I'll feel better once we can get them loose."

Kurt tried to rally their spirits. "I'll teleport ahead and see what I can find." He disappeared with a bamf, leaving Doc and Marty on lookout.

A minute later, he was back, looking noticeably poorer. "We're getting closer. It was harder for me to teleport now."

Doc, not one to leave a hypothesis untested, shot a bit of mini-lightning into the wall. A rather unpleasant -- almost painful -- tingling appeared in his fingertips. He frowned. "We'll have to tread even more carefully from now on. Around Frieda, our powers won't be much use." He looked at his friend. "You couldn't pull another punch like the one you used on Buford in 1885?"

Marty grinned, finally feeling useful. "Yeah, I think I can do that."

"Good. We'll distract her while you get in. Which way should we go, Kurt?"

Kurt deliberated, trying to sense where the feeling was strongest. "Left, I think."

Left turned out to be a very bad choice. Because left was where a good number of Hellfire Club members had ended up chasing them. A good number of _annoyed_ Hellfire Club members. With guns.

Kurt realized his mistake a few seconds before the members did, at least. "Ah -- right would be better. Much better."

"HEY!"

Marty, Doc, and Kurt bolted, hoping to lose them in the maze of hallways. A few of the goons promptly started a chase, while the smarter ones just began firing. "Kurt, get Marty out of here if you can! I'll take care of them!" Doc snapped, swinging around and sucking electricity from the wall.

Kurt grabbed the teen in a bear hug. "I don't know how far I can take you," he admitted.

"You're not taking me anywhere!" Marty said, wiggling free of Kurt's grip. "I'm not leaving you here, Doc!"

"Marty, please! Just go!" Doc hit the nearest goons with electricity, sending them stumbling back into their fellows. "Ouch," he added, shaking his hands.

"_Herr Doktor _is right," Kurt agreed, grabbing Marty again. "It's too dangerous!"

"No! He's my best friend! I stick by him no matter what!"

Kurt was about to teleport anyway when strong arms wrestled him away from Marty and to the ground. Somebody grabbed Marty and pinned his arms behind his back. The teen kicked backward, furious.

There was a "BAMF!", and Kurt reappeared three feet away, looking quite ill. The Hellfire members he had dragged with him didn't look so hot either, but they managed to drag him down for some fresh members.

Doc prepared to shoot more electricity at those holding Kurt. Noticing this, one of them quickly raised his gun. "_Herr Doktor!_" Kurt yelled in warning.

"Doc!" Marty screamed, feeling a burst of terror.

The next few moments seemed to be in slow motion for the teen. Doc spun -- too fast. He slid, overcorrected, and began to fall. The Hellfire member smiled wickedly, finger curling around the trigger. Horror filled Marty's soul. "No. NO!" he shrieked, struggling desperately against the arms that held him. "Don't! Stop! _STOP!_"

And, just like that, he did.

Marty lurched out of his captor's grip. He couldn't believe his eyes. The guy had actually stopped, only seconds from firing. Why had he listened to him? Not that he wasn't grateful as hell, of course --

Wait a minute. The guy didn't seem to be moving at all. Marty went up to him and waved his hand in front of his face. No response. He snapped his fingers a few times. Still nothing. And now, Marty noticed something else weird. Not only was this guy frozen, so was everyone else. Kurt, Doc, the members of the Hellfire Club -- everybody. All frozen solid. He, Marty, was the only thing moving.

For a moment, Marty wondered with a hopeful heart if Professor X had sensed their distress and come back. His powers were capable of this, the X-Men had told him so. But he was forced to rule it out. Professor X only affected non-mutants as far as he knew. Kurt and Doc should still be moving, at least.

Shaking his head in confusion, he happened to glance up at the wall clock. He froze.

Professor X also couldn't stop the clocks from moving.

He looked down at his own watch. Still running smoothly. He went over to Doc and checked both of his. They were stopped. Marty shook his head again. "Jesus, what's going on here? It's like time just -- stopped."

He had yelled "stop," and time had stopped.

_Holy shit,_ Marty thought wildly, _I can stop time. I'm a mutant and I can stop time._

_Why the hell couldn't I do this earlier?!_

As he grumbled to himself about all the problems he could have solved had his mutant ability shown itself earlier, an unpleasant buzzing began in the back of his head. _Must be Frieda,_ he figured, grimacing. _Kinda hurts. . .guess that means I should make the most of the time I have._ He went to work "fixing" the scene.

6:30 P. M (_after one microsecond)_

Doc blinked. Something seemed -- different. Like things had happened during the last microsecond to throw the whole world out of whack. He couldn't put his finger on what, though.

He realized that he was sitting comfortably on the ground. True, he _had_ been falling, but his trajectory had been such that he should have landed on his side. Plus, now that he thought about it, just a moment ago, he'd still been in the process of falling. He shouldn't have landed just yet.

Doc was snapped out of his introspection by puzzled cursing. He jumped to his feet to face the Hellfire member about to shoot him.

Only to notice that, suddenly, the man (or woman) no longer had a gun.

Deciding to take advantage of the situation now and puzzle it out later, he hit the goon with a shock. He jumped and fell to the ground, unconscious. He was followed quickly by three of his fellow members.

Kurt landed by his side, frowning. "_Doktor_, do you know what just happened?" he asked plaintively. "Because I could have sworn they had me pretty firmly." He indicated his former captors, bested by Kurt's acrobatic moves.

"Frankly, all I can say is, got me," Doc admitted, stunning another member. "There's the possibility that somehow we opened a time warp of some sort. I wonder what Marty --

"MARTY!"

In the confusion over the changes, Doc had completely forgotten about his young friend. He looked around wildly. "Great Scott! Where is he?!" he gasped, running down the hall.

"Over here, Doc!"

Doc and Kurt spotted Marty down at the opposite end of the hall. "I found a secret passage. I think it leads to the lab."

"Not so loud," Doc cautioned.

"How on earth did you get over there?" Kurt demanded. "_Gott un Himmel_, I'm confused."

"It's--" Marty paused, looking nervous. "I'll explain later. Once Hank's stuff is safe."

Doc frowned. "Marty, are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Come on, before those goons wake up."

_Bet it's this strange time phenomena,_ Doc figured as they followed Marty. _He has even less of an idea than we do of how he got out of his situation. I wonder if our continued presence here is seriously starting to affect the space-time continuum? If so, we'll have to leave immediately after getting rid of these people._

A few turns later, Marty pointed down another of the endless hallways. "It's over here. Hidden behind this painting. I'll show you."

Before he could do anything, though, they suddenly heard an eerie cackle behind them. "Ah, look here. Come to Selene."

They spun around, expecting to see the familiar mask of a Hellfire member. But, instead--

6: 32 P. M.

_Kurt_

But, instead of the hallway, Kurt was amazed to see a vast expanse of desert. Scruffy-looking patches of grass dotted the landscape, occasionally swaying in a hot breeze. Nearby, grass huts were arranged in a rough circular shape. Frankly, it reminded him of the African Savannah.

Ororo's home.

Kurt frowned deeply. Had they accidentally wandered into J. C.'s territory again? Somehow, he doubted that. Something about this scene felt too -- real. Maybe it had something to do with those time warps Doc Brown had mentioned. He and Ororo were planning trips to both Germany and Africa for their eventual honeymoon. They had wanted to see each other's homelands. _How odd. If I walk into that village, will I see myself and Ororo, vacationing?_

_Well, only one way to find out._ Kurt started walking.

_Doc_

But, instead of the hallways of a great, ancient mansion, Doc saw white and disgustingly clean corridors. They reminded him of a hospital. Even stranger, he could see still faint flickers of the school's halls underneath these new ones.

_An illusionist! Could it be J. C.? No, we're on the second floor, she's on the first. This must be that "Selene" woman we heard just a moment ago. She must not know about my own electrical powers, which is a lucky break. But still, it looks so real. . . . She must be extremely powerful to worm her way into my brain like this. And if she's done _this_ to me. . . ._

He looked around. Marty and Kurt were still next to him, vague shapes lost in their own worlds. Doc moved a little closer to them. "Marty? Kurt?" he tried.

"There's no one there, Dr. Brown," cooed an overly-soothing voice. Doc spun to see three almost-solid figures, a woman and two men. "Now come with us, like a good boy."

The men stepped forward, attired in dull white uniforms. Police batons hung from their belts. One had a small paper cup of red liquid in his hand. The other carried a strait-jacket.

Even though he knew what he was seeing wasn't real, Doc's heart still quickened in fear. Somehow, Selene had gotten into his brain enough to make him see the place he truly feared -- a psychiatric hospital. Doc felt an urge to scream, but fought it down. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him shake in terror. "I want to see my family," he said firmly, playing along with the illusion.

"It's not visiting hours, Dr. Brown."

"Then I want to contact them."

"Oh, Dr. Brown, you know all their visits end in tears. They're so ashamed of having you in here. They hated having to commit you -- the publicity. . . ."

This bitch knew how to push his buttons! Furious, Doc paced the illusionary corridor, looking for the woman's vague shape so he could introduce her to a shock. The attendants tried to grab him, but couldn't get a firm grip. Doc chuckled at their puzzlement, and kept searching.

_Marty_

But, instead of the school, Marty saw rooms done in the most vulgar colors he could imagine. His jaw dropped. He had somehow been transported to a place he'd never wanted to see again.

Biff Tannen's Pleasure Paradise.

"You look confused, kid," a rough voice said behind him. Marty turned to see Biff-A behind him, robed and smirking. "Whatsa matter, butt-head, don't like what I've done with the place?"

Marty frowned. Something was -- off about Biff-A. His smirk wasn't quite the one Marty knew. _I'd say it was J. C., only we never told her any details about this place. Did we run into another illusionist?_

Biff-A walked toward him, casually murderous. Marty backed up. Illusion or not, this guy still scared him. "I need something from you, you little punk," he growled. "And unless you give it to me, you're gonna suffer the consequences."

"Yeah?" Marty said, trying to sound tough. "Like what? You gonna shoot me?"

Biff's smirk evolved into a truly twisted grin. "Actually. . . ."

Biff's gang trooped in, dragging with them a strait-jacketed Doc. Marty's best friend was struggling hard, but it was obvious he wasn't escaping anytime soon. Biff produced his gun. "I'm gonna shoot _him._"

The blood drained from Marty's face. _Shit. . .don't do this to me. . .anything but this. . . ._

Biff pointed the gun straight at Doc's heart. "Do what I say, or he dies, McFly." Biff giggled and cocked his piece. "Hell, maybe I'll kill him anyway. You never know."

This was too much! No matter if it was illusion or real, Marty had to stop this! He activated his power.

Instantly, the scene vanished. Marty breathed a sigh of relief. He had seen Doc threatened enough for a lifetime.

He realized someone was gripping his arm. He looked up to see Doc staring at him. "She get you too, Doc"?" he asked with a sigh, not expecting an answer.

"Enough," Doc replied, making Marty start. "Did you do this?"

Marty nodded. "Yeah. I can stop time. That's how I found the passage, when I froze everybody the first time." He looked around, baffled. "But how come you're moving now?"

"I don't know, and frankly, at the moment, I don't care." Doc took a look around too. Kurt was frozen in a leap, an expression of horror on his face. At the end of the hall, a strange woman in black stood stiff as a statue. "Although, a quick hypothesis is that I touched you. Is your watch still running?"

"Yeah, was the last time too."

"Then that's probably it." He released Marty's arm and went up to the woman. She was quite beautiful, but in a way that made him and Marty shiver in fear. Her eyes were closed, her fingers against her temples. Her expression was a mixture of concentration, confusion, and pain. "I think we just found Sebastian Shaw's lovely illusionist wife. The pain is from fighting Frieda, the confusion is from trying to get me fully into the fantasy."

"Do you think you could shock her?"

"Now that I have an idea of where she is, definitely. I don't know if I should try it now, or in regular time. The effects on the space-time continuum could be catastrophic."

"I don't know about that, but I'm getting a major headache," Marty agreed.

Doc grabbed Marty's wrist. "I'll be quick. You can deactivate now."

Marty released his power, sighing with relief as the headache vanished. Biff reappeared, but only for a second. Then he disappeared again as Selene shrieked in surprised pain. Marty quickly backed up as she glared at them all. "Fools! You think you can defeat me?" She rounded on Doc, her eyes wide with power.

Suddenly, she screamed again and collapsed to the floor in a heap. Marty gaped. "Jesus, Doc, what happened? What did you do to her?"

"Nothing. She did it to herself. Remember how I said it's damn near impossible to use mental powers on me? Try too hard when I'm using my power, and you'll receive a rather nasty shock to the brain." He knelt over her and checked her vitals. "She's still alive, but she'll be out for quite a while." Doc looked over at Kurt, who was breathing hard. "Are you all right?"

"I think so." Kurt wiped the sweat from his face. "I thought I saw -- Ororo being -- being whipped to death for sorcery." He shivered. "I was trying to save her."

Marty was abruptly reminded of Jennifer, still trapped with Shaw. "Doc, we gotta get to the girls. They need our help!"

"I would love to go right to them, but -- and I hate to say this -- Hank's work is more important. If Shaw gets it, more people than them will be in danger."

"But we can't just leave them!"

"Who says we're going to leave them? Kurt can go."

"Me??"

Doc smiled. "It's simple logic, Kurt. How much of your mutation can Frieda suppress?" Kurt still looked puzzled. "You _were_ still blue when you couldn't teleport, right?"

"_Ja_, but -- oooh," he said, catching on.

Doc nodded. "You're the most athletic of our little group anyway--"

"And that tail of yours is the best," Marty added.

"If anyone's got a chance against Frieda, it's you," Doc finished. "Make sure our families are all right. We'll be in the lab, saving what we can."

Kurt nodded. "Good luck." He scampered down the hall, looking for the source of their troubles. Doc turned to Marty. "Now where was this secret passage again?"

6: 48 P. M.

_The Hall o'X-Men_

Frieda, slumped against the wall, barely noticed as she heard something come running up the hall. _Probably another Hellfire Club member,_ she thought, utterly bored. She hadn't expected her job to be that of a baby-sitter. But here she was, looking after a bunch of kids and the X-Men. It was enough to drive a girl mad.

The running drew closer. Frieda turned her head -- and was rewarded by the sight of something very much unlike a Hellfire member. It was blue, with bright yellow eyes and a long flexible tail. A mutant! Frieda grinned. Finally, some excitement. She couldn't wait to knock the mutant's block off once it tried to use --

Wait a second. It wasn't changing in the least as it drew nearer. And her power, thanks to the amplifier, should stretch out a couple of yards in all directions. Why hadn't it changed sooner?

_Shit! Its main X-power must be something else! Just like that Mystique woman -- couldn't morph in my presence, but remained blue and scaly!_

The mutant leapt into the air and aimed a kick at her head. Frieda dodged, but the kick connected anyway. Despite her powers as a mutation-blocker (in fact, probably _because_ of them) Frieda wasn't much of a physical fighter. She got in a few good punches before Kurt took her down for the count.

Kurt looked around at his friends. "Is everyone all right?"

"Pretty bored, to tell the truth," Marie admitted, giving Bobby a final nuzzle. "Where the heck did you come from?"

"I ran up an air duct earlier." He released Ororo and gave her a quick kiss. "Then, when I could, I teleported." Next he freed Logan, who promptly popped his claws and set to work slicing through the rest of the ropes. "_Doktor_ Brown, Marty, and J. C. are here too."

"Are they all right?" Clara and Jennifer asked in unison.

"_Ja._ They send their apologies that they couldn't come and rescue you personally. But your husband felt it was more important that they protect their work on Legacy, Mrs. Brown."

"And J. C.?" Verne asked as Clara untied him.

"She's keeping a few Hellfire Club members busy."

Logan frowned at the blood leaking from his knuckles as he freed Jean and Scott. "How do we get our goddamned powers back?"

"From what I've heard, Frieda's normal range is only a couple of feet in diameter. I think that black box attached to her belt is somehow helping amplify her powers. Try taking off that," Jean suggested.

Logan promptly clawed off the box. As he drew back, the blood stopped oozing. Scott snapped his eyes shut and felt for his sunglasses while Bobby and Marie quickly moved apart.

Jean handed Scott his glasses just as an alarm on the box went off. Within minutes, Hellfire members were pouring through the doors. A few quickly grabbed Frieda and used her as a shield. A couple of others concentrated on distracting Wolverine, correcting identifying him as the biggest threat. Clara, Jules, Verne, and Jennifer checked on the X-Kids, then joined the growing battle as best they could.

_Meanwhile, down in Hank's Lab_

Doc and Marty landed beside one of Hank's research tables. Doc promptly ran to the computer. "Can you give me a little more time? Or, should I say, out of time?"

"Sure thing, Doc." Marty grabbed Doc's arm. Instantly all above was quiet, the lab clock frozen. "Just be fast. I dunno how long I can hold it."

Doc nodded, got into their file system, and began copying all their work to CD. "We'll probably have to erase the information from the computer, but I'll be damned if we don't have a back-up copy."

He came across their previous recipe for a cure serum and sighed deeply. He and Hank had had high hopes it would work. But, like all the others, it had failed upon testing. _Where did we go wrong?_ Doc thought, preparing to back it up anyway.

Then he paused. Something about the formula didn't look right. He took a moment to scan it.

"Doc, what are ya doing?" Marty asked, impatient.

"Shh." Aha, there it was. Hank had forgotten a "two" subscript at the end of a formula. Inside of hydrochloric acid, the serum contained water. Doc fixed the mistake -- then, on a hunch, ran the testing program.

It worked.

Not believing his eyes, Doc ran it again. The same thing happened. The serum weakened the virus, providing spots for antibodies to form. Disabled, the virus could only drift helplessly. Then, in a rush of white blood cells, it was gone, and the DNA was free to repair itself.

Marty watched the screen over Doc's shoulder, jaw hanging open. "Doc. . .did you just. . . ."

"Yes." Doc's eyes lit up in joy. "Yes! It's the cure, Marty! WE FOUND THE CURE!"


	10. Shaw's Final Defeat

Chapter 9

6:51 P. M.

_Hank's Lab_

"ALL RIGHT!" Marty did a little dance around the lab. "Hank'll be thrilled, and you won't die, and--"

Marty's excitement faded as he realized. "And as soon as I unfreeze time, Shaw's got a chance of getting his paws on it. Shit."

Doc grumbled to himself. "Why now, why now. . . . I don't dare delete the formula, but if Shaw gets his hands on the back-up CDs. . . ."

Suddenly, he had a thought. _Hmm. Yes, it could work. It _will_ work!_ He put his hands firmly on the sides of the computer and concentrated hard. Electricity flashed, moving up his arms and deep into his brain. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes, grabbed a fresh CD, and backed up the formula.

Marty gave him a confused look. "What was that all about? What did you do to the computer?"

"I'll tell you later." Doc yanked the CD free and directed a spark of electricity at the hard drive. The formula vanished from the screen, replaced by the words "Missing File." "There, that's settled. Now let's find Shaw."

7:00 P. M.

_Back in the Hall O'X-Men_

Shaw burst into the hallway, intensely annoyed at these constant lapses in security. It was looking like Selene was right -- you couldn't trust anything to these dunderheads. _How much do you have to pay for decent workers these days?!_

Clara spotted him first. "You bastard!" she snarled, kicking him as hard as she could in the shin.

Shaw shoved her to the ground. "Get out of my way, woman! I have business to take care of!"

A bunch of Hellfire members came flying toward him. Shaw let a few hit him before ducking to absorb their kinetic energy. He could just see through the melee that they had been telekinetically thrown by Phoenix -- Jean. Her eyes glowed with a fiery light, and she seemed to soar at her enemies with invisible wings. Nightcrawler wrapped his tail around another member and knocked his head into the wall. Storm forced a few of her enemies back with great gusts of wind, then swirled them into a mini-tornado before dropping them on the floor. Iceman quickly froze them there before they could recover. Cyclops and Wolverine were -- shockingly -- working together, Cyclops blasting members into Wolverine, where he knocked them out with a single punch.

Suddenly, Shaw felt like something had grabbed his arm and was sucking the life right out of him. His veins distended, then relaxed as whatever that was went away. Minutes later Rogue smacked him with a gloved hand. "Thanks for the boost," she taunted, revealing her unclothed right.

"You'll pay for that," Shaw said, recovering quickly. "Selene!"

Selene didn't come. The other X-Men were wrapped up in their own battles, but spared a few moments each to try and get Shaw. Jennifer grabbed the heaviest thing she could throw and chucked it at Shaw's head. "You're a monster!"

Shaw grabbed her roughly. "Want me to prove it?"

"Hey! Shaw!"

There was a pause in the action as everyone turned to see Doc and Marty standing in the doorway. Marty glared furiously at Shaw. "Put her down, or I'll--"

Shaw grinned and dropped Jennifer. "Yes?"

"Calm down. We want to negociate." Doc idly twirled the back-up CD in his left hand. "Call off your henchmen, and we'll talk."

"You're Dr. Emmett Brown. And you're that singer, Marty McFly. What are you doing here?"

"We're helping Hank McCoy. I just found your Legacy Virus cure."

Everyone froze. Shaw regarded the pair coolly, hiding the jolt of excitement that had just gone through him. "Really?"

"Really. It's all on this CD." Doc held it up. "And _only_ on this CD. I erased the master file from the computer. The cure to the Legacy Virus is here, and here alone."

Shaw hesitated a moment, then waved. The Hellfire Club members obediently fell back, a few sighing in relief. Some of the wounded suppressed moans. "Is that the truth?"

"See for yourself. Send somebody to the lab."

Shaw did so. "And you want to negociate for the disk?" Doc nodded, his face deadly serious. "Well, I'm afraid it's not going to work that way. Give up the disk or I start with the children."

Doc's eyes grew dark. "Lay one hand on any of those kids, _especially_ my own," he growled, "and I will erase this CD faster than you can blink." He brought up his right hand, sparks flicking through the fingers. "One spark is all it would take."

Shaw went stiff, glaring at them impressively. "You wouldn't dare. You'd be signing your own death warrant."

"It would be worth it to keep your filthy paws off this formula."

"It's our way or the highway," Marty added. "Not even your wife can help you now."

Shaw had been on the verge of calling for Selene. "What did you do to her?" he growled, face going red.

"She did it to herself. She tried to tap into my mind while I was using my power. She'll be all right, but she won't be waking up anytime soon. Like Marty said, our way or the highway."

There was a tense silence. Then Shaw said, "Fine. Let's hear your terms."

"First off, free the X-Men and our families, unharmed. Next, you let the X-Men keep a copy of the formula. We can't leave you as the only supplier."

"Why not?"

"Hank told me about you, Shaw. You'd exploit that opportunity mercilessly."

"A man has to make a profit."

"At the expense of millions of lives?"

"Look at yourself. You're prepared to erase that formula, all for the sake of a few principles."

Doc nodded slightly, giving Shaw the point. "But I also bet a good number of mutants would die before owing their lives to you."

Before Shaw could retort, the henchman he had sent to the lab returned, looking nervous. "He's telling the truth," one reported. "The file's been wiped. There's no trace of it in the hard drive."

Shaw grumbled to himself -- then suddenly, smirked. "I just had a thought, Dr. Brown. How do you intend to make me keep my end of the bargain? My group vastly outnumbers yours. I'm sure that, with a little persuasion, you would give up the disk." He leered at Clara, who snarled right back.

Doc brought his electric hand close to the disk. "If you're willing to give up the cure, just lay _one_ _hand_ on my wife," he said, voice cold.

"I don't think you'll need to go that far, Doc."

Heads turned toward the doorway. "J. C.!" Marty said, grinning. "You're okay!"

J . C. smiled weakly at her friends. "Yeah, the dickwads knocked me out. But they paid big time for it." She gave Shaw her iciest stare. "You'd better do as he says. Otherwise some very nasty things could happen."

"Really? Who are you to threaten me?"

"The mutant daughter of a Purifier, that's who. You make me sick, Shaw, absolutely sick. And I bet my father would be sick too, once he found out that his hero -- and said hero's wife -- were mutants."

Shaw's smirk transformed into a megawatt glare. "You wouldn't dare, you little brat. How could you contact him?"

"She has her ways," Professor X said calmly, rolling in. He was followed by Hank, in his werewolf form. "Excuse us for our tardiness. We knew something was wrong when we couldn't contact the mansion. Unfortunately the Blackbird still hasn't quite recovered from the damage it took during our campaign with Magneto."

"I don't think the steering will ever be the same," Hank elaborated.

Shaw couldn't believe this. Everything that could have gone wrong, had. In extreme frustration, he kicked the wall a few times. "If Selene was here--"

"You have to run to your wife to fix every problem?" Marty taunted. Jennifer and Clara sighed a little, shaking their heads.

_That does it! There's no loss in trying physical combat now. These freaks shall see that Sebastian Shaw can not, _will_ not be cowed!_ With a yell, he aimed a punch at the mocking teen's face.

Incredibly, the punch hooked around and smacked _him_ in the jaw. Shaw tried again. Same result. The punch never even came near Marty. Marty gave him an insolent grin. "Give up?"

Shaw looked around. Surrounded by X-Men. Professor X back. Missing and injured Hellfire Club Members. Selene out of commission. And the Legacy cure right in front of him. Closing his eyes and hanging his head, Shaw nodded. Yes. He gave up.

Logan snorted. "Why don't I just pop my claws through him and we forget this whole mess," he suggested roughly.

"I'd love to take you up on that offer, but the last thing the X-Men needs is negative publicity," Doc reminded him. "I just want him off our backs."

"Fine, let's lay all our cards on the table," Shaw said, trying to regain his charm. "I don't want to be here any more than you want me to be here. I'll gladly vacate the premises once you agree to my conditions. First of which is the safe return of my wife."

"She's down this hall, then turn left and go down another three hallways. Just don't try any funny business."

Shaw sent the group of Hellfire members to retrieve her. "Second, I've sunk quite a bit of money into this venture, Dr. Brown. Millions and millions of dollars. Plus all sort of scientific manpower."

"I don't doubt it, seeing as how a couple of world-class geneticists have gone missing," Hank snapped heatedly.

"I did what I needed to in order to develop a cure. I'm not insensitive to the needs of the mutant population, despite my public persona."

"No, you're just insensitive to the needs of the human population."

"Now now, Dr. McCoy. Now that there's a cure on hand, I have no qualms about releasing them."

"Good, you anticipated our next term," Doc said. "All of them, though, Shaw."

"Just a moment. Dr. Stoker has taken a personal interest in the project. I doubt he wants to leave right away."

Doc frowned. "As long as he stays out of his own free will, I suppose that's all right."

"Good. Now, besides your copy of the formula, will you want a sample of the stuff?"

"Just to make sure you don't monkey around with it. Let's get back to your money comment for a moment, however. I know that was for a reason. I can't stop you from selling the darn thing, but I'm looking for a reasonable price."

"That's all I ask."

"_Very_ reasonable, Shaw. All kinds of mutants have this disease."

Shaw frowned. "I'll do my best to keep it as cheap as possible. These demands are quite ridiculous, you know."

"Not from our point of view."

"What next, then?" Shaw demanded. "X-Men in my factory?"

"One to supervise and collect the sample you promised us. I don't trust you to mail it."

"Can it at least be one of my choosing?"

"Hank doesn't--"

Hank interrupted, surprising them all. "Actually, I think I will now. After all, I'm the best suited for the job -- brains and brawn."

Doc grinned a little at him. Shaw smiled as well. "Do we have a deal? Or are there any more silly terms I have to worry about?"

Doc hesitated a moment. Then he nodded. "We have a deal." He shook hands with Shaw very reluctantly, then passed over the disk. As it changed hands, a tiny spark of electricity jumped over the surface, unnoticed.

Selene was brought in, conscious now and moaning. Shaw ran to her side. "Selene, darling. . . . What did they do to you?"

"I'm -- not really sure," Selene confessed, shaking her head to clear it. Her eyes fell upon Doc, and she turned dead white. "Don't let him near me!" she yelled, cowering back.

A current of murmuring went through the Hellfire Club members. Selene had always been their greatest fear, the thing that kept them in line. But if this rather unimposing man could scare her. . . . Well, suffice to say, a few members were starting to question their loyalties.

Shaw went stiff, and fixed them all with another megawatt glare. "You'll excuse me, I hope, if I don't make proper goodbyes."

"Not at all. Go."

Jean's eyes flared red, and quite a few Hellfire members were automatically shoved out the door. Shaw yanked Frieda to her feet and carried her out, supporting Selene with his shoulder.

"He's a gentlemanly jerk, at least," Scott commented, earning him a light telekinetic shove.

Doc pulled Clara off the floor and into his arms. "Clara, Clarabelle. . .did he hurt you? Oh, Clara, I'm so sorry I didn't come earlier." He kissed her as hard as he dared. "Please tell me you're all right."

"I'm fine, he just gave me a shove at the end." She squeezed him tight. "Is it true? Do you really have the cure?"

"Yes, it's true. Hank, you won't believe this, it was all a matter of a missing subscript."

"Does that mean you're gonna live, Papa?" Jules asked, eyes bright. Doc nodded. The boys cheered and ran into his arms.

Jennifer gave Marty a once-over, feeling him for broken bones. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah. Everything's great, Jennifer." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. _Man, I love her so much. I wish this moment could last forever._

Abruptly, everything went silent. The teens pulled apart to find the world frozen solid. Jennifer looked around nervously. "What -- what just happened?"

"Sorry, my fault," Marty blushed. Jennifer frowned at him. "I'm a mutant, Jennifer. I just found out. I can stop time." He looked around. "Guess I accidentally used my power."

Jennifer suddenly laughed. "Is _that_ how Shaw kept hitting himself?"

"Guilty as charged." Marty quickly turned off his power. A few of the other kids gave the pair puzzled looks, wondering how they had changed position so fast.

J. C. went up to Doc, looking shy. "I'm glad you guys pulled through."

Doc smiled at her. "You were very brave. Thank you."

"Thank you. For being there."

Doc became very serious. "J. C., I can't love you like I think you love me."

"Yeah, I know. But I really want to be part of your life. Please."

The smile returned. "I think we can work something out." He gave her a hug.

Hank patted Doc's shoulder, grinning toothily. "Great work, Emmett, absolutely great. Our desperate search is finally over." The grin vanished as he sighed deeply. "I just wish it wasn't in Shaw's hands."

"It isn't."

All eyes turned to Doc. The scientist smiled almost evilly. "When I passed over the disk, I erased a bit of information from it. Just enough to keep Shaw busy for a few days."

Hank was horrified. "But -- but -- you said yourself that was the only copy of the formula! Please, _please_ tell me you were lying and made another backup."

"In a manner of speaking, Hank. Once I discovered the correct formula, I conceived of an idea that would get Shaw out of our hair while allowing us to retain possession of the formula."

Marty remembered Doc pressing his hands against the computer. He raised an eyebrow. "Doc -- did you--"

Doc's smile widened as he tapped his temple. "Downloaded it directly into my brain. I can simply relay the information back to Hank. I may even be able to transfer it back into the computer."

Hank laughed. "Yes! Defeated at his own game!"

Marty grinned at his friends. "Yeah. Good job, 'Crawler. You too, Lightning."

Doc chuckled. " You didn't do too bad either, Clockstopper," he returned. "And neither did you, Dream." J. C. just smiled and squeezed him. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get crackin'!"


	11. Heading Home

Epilogue

Friday, September 27th, 2002

Graymalkin Lane, Westchester County, New York

2:04 P. M.

Marty winced as Hank administered his final shot of the serum. "That's it. You'll never have to worry about Legacy anywhere or anywhen."

"Thanks Hank." Marty yanked his sleeve back down. "You'll be seeing me in the future, I bet. Now that there's a cure, future me and future Jennifer will want our kids vaccinated too."

"No doubt. I'll be on the lookout for -- you."

Marty found himself getting curious. "Hey, Hank, do you have any idea what I'm doing in the future? I know I'm famous, but J. C. mentioned something that made me wonder if I'm doing the job I think I was."

"You know Dr. Brown wouldn't appreciate it."

"Yeah, but can't you just give me a quick hint?"

"Let's just say your future's going to hold a number of surprises."

Marty looked annoyed for a minute, then shrugged. "Oh well. I can live with that. I'd better catch up with the Doc."

"I'll come with you. I still need to say goodbye." They went up to the living room, where the Browns and Jennifer were waiting. "I think we can say we're even, Jean," Doc joked, giving Jean a hug.

"A couple of times over, even," Jennifer agreed with a chuckle.

Clara shook Ororo's hand. "It was very nice meeting you. Congratulations on your engagement."

"Thank you. The wedding date is for November 5th, if you'd like to come."

"We'd love to."

"You won't forget?" Kurt asked.

"Hey, trust us, there's no way we could forget that date," Marty assured him. "Pleasure working with you."

"_Ja_, same here."

A bunch of the younger mutants came in, lead by Bobby and Marie. They were holding two boxes wrapped in black paper. "We wanted to give you a special 'thank you/going away' present," Marie said, handing them to Doc and Marty.

"Why, thank you," Doc said, ripping his open. Inside was a black leather uniform like those the X-Men wore on duty. The sleeves and chest had been decorated with lightning bolts, and a tag affixed it read "Honorary X-Man."

Marty smiled, almost shyly, as he lifted his, printed with a clock face on front and back, free of the package. "Thanks a lot, guys. It's great."

"I concur," Doc said, also smiling. The group blushed as one.

Jennifer gathered up Jules and Verne, who had been watching Artie catch things with his tongue. "Are we all set?"

Doc did a quick head count. "We're short one person. Josephine!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!"

J. C. Jones jogged up to the group, holding her suitcase. "Just had to pack a few things," she explained.

"You _are_ coming back, you know."

"Yeah, but I do need some clothes and my toothbrush and all that." She frowned thoughtfully. "Although, really, I still don't get how you're going to explain me showing up. . . ."

"To everyone else, you're going to be my late cousin's daughter. People will buy it, believe me."

"Okay." J. C. smiled. "Dad." Doc smiled back and hugged her.

"Well, people, we have a train to catch," he said, breaking the embrace after a minute. "I'll be back tomorrow to drop off J. C., Professor."

"Have a good trip," Hank said.

"Thanks. Good luck distributing the serum." Hank and Doc shook hands. "I hope we meet again some time in the future."

"Or in the past," Hank nodded. Doc rolled his eyes and laughed.

Minutes later, they were on the train. J. C. waved to her friends. "See ya later, alligator!"

"Time circuits operational -- date set, August 20th, 1987, 2:10 P. M., two days after we left -- J. C., sit down and get buckled up, please. Is everyone ready?"

"Let's head home, Doc," Marty nodded. Doc threw the train into gear. As it chugged above them, the X-Men gave it one final wave. Doc tooted the whistle in response. Then, with a final burst of speed, they were gone.

August 20th, 1987

Hill Valley

2:10 P. M.

Doc hit the invisibility lever and landed the train right outside his house. "Ah, home sweet home."

J. C. promptly popped up and took a look around. "Nice place you got here," she said approvingly. "A lot nicer than my old house."

"Glad you like it. Now, we're going to give you the room in the attic. . . ."

As the adults talked, Jules turned to Verne. "I just remembered something. We never got to finish our game of Scrabble. Wanna finish it now?"

"Okay." They hopped out of the train. Einstein ran up to greet them all. "Hi Einy! Nice to see you again! Did you have fun?" Einstein barked. "Come on, we're gonna finish our game."

_I'm right beside you, Verne._

Verne froze, staring at the family pet. Had Einstein just -- had he --

He looked at his brother, patiently waiting for him. Jules obviously hadn't heard Einstein speak, otherwise he'd be just as shocked as he was. So it had to be that he, Verne, was --

He looked at his father, opened his mouth, then changed his mind. He'd have to tell his family sometime, but now was not it. "All right, come on." He ran into the house, Einstein by his side. "Can you remind me what word I wanted to play?"

The End


End file.
